Taking wing

I think Jack was six when he announced that he wanted to fly. Not just fly, exactly; my boy knew from that very moment that he wanted to pilot a DeHavilland Beaver… as a missionary.

He’s never wavered, not once. At 14, his vision is even more clear: Jack wants to be the guy other missionaries call when the Things Of Which We Do Not Speak come to pass. He wants to be the one who picks up a critically ill baby in Cameroon and brings him back to the U.S. for lifesaving treatment. He wants to be the man touching down on a dirt strip as the revolution explodes and the church planters flee for their lives. He wants to be the guy who goes deep into closed territories and helps the Word penetrate the darkness.

I’ve always known he was meant for things that would make my Momma heart gasp. From the first moment I held this child, God whispered to my soul, “Do you love him enough to give him back to me?” And I do. Daily. Even though honestly?  Jack being Jack, well…

It’s not easy.

Jack’s first flight was several years back, a quick jaunt via Young Eagles that sealed the deal. He came home with eyes blazing, and I knew. I knew that look. It was the same exhilarated, “I was made for this!” joy that rode home on his father’s face at the end of every training trip into Nepal, Burma, Haiti, or Thailand. It was the same wonder and excitement I’d seen in Mary Hannah’s smile the morning after witnessing her first birth.

He’s found it. Already. He’s found the purpose for which God created him.

Sunday, Christopher and Jack will be on the road, en route to a camp specializing in missions aviation. Thanks to a generous scholarship and the eagerness of fellow airmen (who are almost universally thrilled at the prospect of mentoring a new recruit), Jack will spend all of next week drinking in formulas and mechanics and safety information. And, of course, flying. Digging deeper into the passion God has placed on his heart, leaning in to the counsel of those who have made their life’s work the same slightly crazy, very necessary call he wants to follow.

We’ll miss him. Not just this week, but, eventually … well, we’ll miss him. Because this is the kind of purpose that separates families even as it builds the Kingdom of God. But, oh— to have a child whose whole heart yearns to see the Great Commission fulfilled. To have a child who wants to serve. To have a child who longs to go, and do. These are things worth missing one another for. These are the wings we pray our children find with their faith.