Listen to Hasten Home, Son

We started a new tradition this Christmas that I hope never to repeat. It’s called, “Where’s Mason?”

My youngest asked if he could work in the Keys over his winter break. We wanted him home. He needed the money. His college debt won out.

He arrived in Florida a week before Christmas just ahead of rain, a cold front and a management shake up that left him bussing tables instead of taking tips. Here would be the perfect place to compare my son’s quest to that of the prodigal boy who squandered his dad’s inheritance, but I won’t.

Oh, okay, maybe I will just a little.

Both boys left home and journeyed to a far away country. (The unofficial motto of Key West is, “Welcome to The Conch Republic. We seceded where others failed.”) Both fell in with a fast crowd. (You ever driven in South Florida? Scary.) Both ended up working in less than desirable jobs. (One fed pigs. The other had to endure boorish behavior.) You get the picture.

My son called Christmas Eve to say he’d made a mistake. He wanted to come home. Being the wise, loving, and understanding dad that I am, I told him, “Too bad! You’re the one who wanted to go down there. You’re the one who broke your mom’s heart, ditched Ralphie, skipped out on the Griswolds’ Christmas Vacation, shunned the reading of the Polar Express and ruined Christmas morning, day and dinner for everyone. This was all your idea. Deal with it.”

Just kidding. I didn’t really say all that. I would have, but my wife yanked the phone away. She’s better at expressing the spirit of Christmas than I am. And what is the spirit of Christmas? It’s forgiveness, compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. The sort of attributes I should model, but don’t.

I missed Mason this Christmas and take comfort in the promise that he’ll return home. But he’s also hanging out with us on the tree this year.

Each day I pause to look at his ornaments. A soccer ball with his name on it. A hand made craft project with his face glued to the front. Sailing reminders and snowboard figurines, school emblems and Popsicle sticks shaped like a reindeer. “You will wear them all as ornaments,” Isaiah promised.

I’m glad Mason’s safe, thankful that he’s motivated to work. But I’m also mindful of the other sons, husbands and fathers who aren’t working in the Keys this Christmas but are stationed, instead, on the front lines, risking their lives that my family might remain safe this Christmas. “Lift up your eyes and look around; all your children gather.”

I pray it will be so. Hurry home, Son. We miss you.

We sat by the warm glow of the campfire, surrounded by the cold darkness. My husband and I had decided to take a couple of days in mid-November to do some camping at the state park. Other than the shadows created by the fire and the dark outline of our tent and trees, the black of night draped itself around us like a long, hooded cloak. Though the campground was practically deserted, I felt safe, relaxed, and warm. We had come prepared or so we thought.

Our German Shepherd, Kelly, had been resting contentedly on her bed next to me when she suddenly began growling softly. I listened and heard what sounded like something or someone coming up from below the ridge where we had set up camp. Struggling to see into complete darkness, I quickly grabbed Kelly’s collar, noticing her heightened state of alert.

Whispering, I said to my husband, “Get the flashlight.” The steps were closing in on us and thinking his response was not quick enough, I repeated a little louder, “Get the flashlight!” At that moment a silhouette appeared just above the ridge. “GET THE FLASHLIGHT!” I screamed, just as the animal began to charge at us. The beam from the flashlight broke the darkness and quickly paralyzed our intruder, stopping it in its tracks not six feet from where Kelly and I sat.

Have you ever been so focused on something that you become unaware of what is going on around you? Blinded by circumstances, sickness, addiction, or loss, you can quickly be overcome by intruders like fear, despair, and sorrow. Even finding yourself in situations of comfort, blessing, and success can blind you to the fact that something lurks outside your unprotected boundaries; pride, apathy, or greed.

Satan is a master of disguise and gets along quite well in places where we can not see. We won’t give him credit though, because once his schemes are brought to light he is paralyzed and fails miserably. Exposing his tactics requires alertness. Resisting his attempts of deception requires self-control. All the light we need is in the name of Jesus.

Have you checked your boundaries lately?

Sue Payne is a freelance writer whose articles have appeared in home schooling newsletters and church news bulletins. She is experienced in curriculum planning and design and uses her writing skills to encourage and teach others. Sue lives in Delaware, is married, and has two boys whom she home schooled for a total of fourteen years.
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