A mother speaks: “There is hope for your future”

This is me at our local mall over the weekend. Photo credit goes to Mr. Schrock who, unbeknownst to me, snapped this (and therein trampled upon every ‘informed consent’ protocol known to womankind with his size 10.5 winter walkers, amen).

Anyway. We were sitting in the food court chowing down on Chick-fil-A. Ever an observer of people, I took note of the two young men who sat at the table beside us. They were tatted up to their teeth; almost literally. Tats up and down the arms, across the backs of the hands, and, for one, across his hairline.

One of them ate busily while his buddy sat, stone faced, unmoving across the table. I felt that familiar stirring, and so…
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I hand my last two waffle fries off to the Mister and approach them where they sit. They look up. “I just want to tell you,” I say, “that there is hope for your future. I have a son who’s running away from God. He’s living a hard life, but I have hope that he’ll return. While I’m waiting for him to come back, I try to encourage the sons and daughters of other mothers. So I want you to know that there’s hope.”

The young man to my left with the gauges in his ears, his face is alight, warm, and he’s smiling up at me. He tells me about his job, about the amazing technology he’s part of, and he whips out his phone and shows me pictures. It’s amazing.

Finally, I say to them both, “If you don’t mind, I will pray for you when I leave, that God will direct your steps.” Again, the young man to my left is beaming. His spirit seems open.

“He’s the one who really needs this message,” he says to me, and he points at his silent, stoic friend.

“Would you mind,” I say, looking into the face of his friend, “if I put my hand on you and pray for you right here?” Heaviness rests on his frame like a shroud, but he nods, giving this mother his permission.

In that food court, I bow my head and, with my hand on his back, I pray for him aloud, by name, and I ask Friend Jesus to put His hand upon his back, to guide his steps, to meet his needs.

“You don’t ever have to doubt,” I say to some other mother’s boy, “that God is with you because He sent a crazy, strange mother to give you this message.” And then Mr. Schrock and I catch The Cub, and we leave.

Tonight, I know their names, I have looked into their eyes, and I’ve spoken the name of Lord Christ. Who has known their names all along.
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The reason I ever tell a few of these stories is not so you will think I am wonderful. It’s because living and working in partnership with God is truly wonderful, and I want very much to teach it.

“Lift up your eyes and look at the fields, for they are ripe for harvest.” – Jesus, friend of sinners