Wednesday, October 09, 2013

Trail Markers Needed


And his mother's name was Hamutal,
the daughter of Jeremiah of Libnah.
—2 Kings 24:18



Perhaps her skills as a mother lacked some backbone. She championed a younger son ahead of her older son—but that's been done before. Her sons Jehoahaz and Mattaniah were kings of Judah, but Biblical history remembers them as ungodly and rebellious.

What went wrong?

Pick up the paper and every crime is committed by someone's child. It's too easy to blame a parent, although in some cases the finger points in that direction. Perhaps the environment contains a clue or the socio-economic milieu, or the selection of friends.

We want answers, but remain distanced from causes when it costs money or means changing attitudes. And sometimes we can't point to any specific reason.
"It's genetic."
"It's the way she is wired."
"I don't know who he takes after."

My daughter differed from my son—not unusual in a family. Where he talked the head off a nail she said few words. She picked up a pencil and drew her world. He eventually collected other people's art.

Their personalities released into the world—each one unique.

She loved dressing up, colored nail polish and Peanuts.
I've never worn nail polish.

They followed their own paths—he lives in far away places and travels to towns with unusual sounding names. She stays put in a small southern town.

Somewhere along her path our roads separated. You know how it is without a map and no GPS—it's hard to find your way back.






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