From the cul-de-sac...

We have been home from the hospital a week and a day. I have had so much I wanted to say here...but my sleep-deprived state of mind did not allow for putting words together in a complete sentence. Or even to spell words correctly. Or even think through how to log on to the blog-site. It was bad. I mean really really bad.

But we seem to have turned a corner today -- last night as a matter of fact. Benjamin is on a much lower dose of needed medications and he slept through the night for the first time since surgery. Do you know how huge that is?? He feels so much better rested today. And so does his mom!! So. much. better.

We know we are still in the middle of a long recovery. But I can not tell you how amazed I am at this boy and the way he is rocking this recovery!!

The incision.

But just as we turned the corner....just as I slept enough to not be weepy all day and overly-critical of all around me, and overly hurt by every imagined infraction known to man (For example, WHY did the pool guy put chemicals in the pool yesterday when I wanted to swim with my girls and enjoy a lovely day?)....oh boy. Just as I felt a tad bit more normal....

I had to shoot one of my arrows this morning. I pulled back and released and sent her soaring....

To Argentina.

Can you follow that mental picture? This year, I have a picture in our "school room" of Mason practicing archery. The picture served as a visual reminder that in order for an arrow to soar, Mason must pull it back, forcing tension in the limbs as he draws the bow near to his heart. The tension is necessary if the arrow is to soar to its intended destination. Tension is necessary.

My quiver is full of the most beautiful arrows. God was so gracious when He gave me two amazing boys and two amazing girls and called me their mom. Such gifts.

But there can be tension. The push and pull of growing into men and women is not for the faint of heart. Teenagers must battle between wanting independence and wanting protection. They must fight the battle between depending on Mom and Dad and standing on their own two feet. They must pull away when some days all they want is to cuddle up in the chair with me or Dad and be little again. Oh, there are serious growing pains in the teen years and my little family is no exception.

And because I am always honest here...sometimes the tension is created by a Mom who desperately wants to keep her littles little. Sigh.

When the applications for summer missions became available this year, I was not interested. Really. We had been to Argentina last year and knew that it was not possible for Benjamin to go this year, so I assumed we would all stay home this summer. But my Claire, my precious Claire, left part of her heart in Argentina (as we all did) and she was hopeful she could return.

Oh no. I could not leave one child in the operating room one day and then two weeks and very little sleep later, leave another at the airport. Absolutely not. No way. No how. Don't even ask.

Dear Dad had other thoughts: What if God was calling her back? Would I stand in the way?

Ugh. No. Of course not. But He wouldn't do that. I needed her here. I wanted her here. She is my right hand. She gets my craziness when I am confined to the house with a healing boy and begin to doubt I have a friend in the world. She encourages. She props me up. She sews pillows with me and never questions why I feel the need to sew pillows on two hours of sleep.

She is my girl.

But, her Dad gently reminded me that I taught her to love missions. I taught her to fall in love with the people she serves. With a smile, her Dad said, "She is just being exactly like you. Will you stand in her way?"

Deep deep sigh.

Of course I will not.

So today, I took this beautiful girl of mine to the airport. I watched her check-in and proceed up the escalator. I watched her disappear from my sight knowing that I am sending her into the arms of some of the dearest friends imaginable....in Argentina. And when she was out of my sight and the tears began to flow (I didn't dare cry in front of her...she had to see how strong I am.), my other beautiful girl, looked up at me and said, "Seriously, Mom? You are crying? She'll be back in like, two weeks or something!!" And I began to laugh. Because Little Red is exactly the medicine I needed.

I sent part of my heart on that plane this morning. I know God wants her there. I know that He has a plan for her. I am eager to hear all about it. To see her photos. To hear the stories of hugs given and received and of lives transformed (her's and other's) because she was obedient to the call.

She gave me a gift this morning. My precious girl bought me a necklace with Argentina on it. She asked me to wear it while she is gone to keep her and that beloved country close to my heart. My Claire is a gift.

And when she is back home, and my quiver is again full to overflowing, I will thank God for the blessing of raising mission-minded children; for the blessing of tension that means we are all growing and learning and becoming the adults God wants us to be. And I will thank him that though I will one day watch them soar for longer than a two week period, THIS season, they are still in my quiver, close to me. Blessing my socks off.