A debate within him over the consequences of his choices. Blessings. Rewards. Isolation. Restrictions. Clearly a struggle that entangles this mom. Battling my own choices and consequences.
A finite tug of war that began in a Garden and continues into my backyard. If it were only a tree I could cut down. Okay, have Husband cut down and we were done with it. Not so. A very real mud pit sits underneath the rope's knot. The red clay stains my carpet, his hands, our shoes, the pavement.
Eternal perspective reassures that not always will this be the struggle. The presence of sin is limited. As limited as its father.
Until then. The struggle, the debate, the tug of war wearies and drains strength. Puberty with deodorant still stinks.
My hope today? In this presence, in his presence, is in His Presence.
Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned, that she has received from the Lord's hand double for all her sins.....He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength...but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:1, 29, 31