Falling on the Stone
This morning as I was reading through Luke 20, I stopped on verse 18 and meditated. Here's the preceding verse with it:
Lk 20:17-18 "Then He looked at them [mostly chief priests, scribes and elders] and said, "What then is this that is written: The stone which the builders rejected Has become the chief cornerstone'? 18 Whoever falls on that stone will be broken, but on whomever it falls, it will grind him to powder."
These thoughts came to me:
1)Thank You, Jesus, that because of Calvary, and because You have made me righteous before God, I will not be one on whom the Stone's judgment falls. I will never be ground to powder because You, dear Jesus were whipped to a pulp in my place. How can I thank You enough?
2) When was the last time you fell on That Stone and were broken? Truly broken.
I think a few months ago I was desperate for a restored relationship with someone close to me. My oldest son, to be exact. Up until this year, Ben and I had had a relationship characterized by anger and unforgiveness, rooted in pride. I could say we're too much alike, but the fact is, we were both too UNLIKE Christ. That's shameful for a mom to admit, that she is not modeling Christ day in and day out. I didn't want to serve him; that was a red flag to me. You can serve anybody, but unless you love them, you don't do it cheerfully. That was me.
The guilt of my sinful words and attitudes kept me from good sleep, caused many headaches, and most of all from knowing true peace. I always thought, "If things are going to change, I'm going to have to be the first one. I have to take the lead on this."
Yet, that's not what happened. On February 15th, just before I went to bed, I found a card in an envelope on my bathroom vanity. It was a Valentine from Ben. He had made it on the computer, very simple and to the point, and wrote a message in his own hand. For the sake of privacy, I won't quote him exactly, but he said that he understood if I could't accept this gesture as genuine, but that he does love me, and hopes this message is the first step in reconciling us to each other. "Love, Ben."
I gulped. My eyes welled up. My heart swelled and then it broke.
As I stood there in the bathroom, reading and rereading this precious note, I wept with joy and gratitude. Joy at a new beginning. Gratitude that God had heard my prayer.
And a twinge of guilt that I hadn't been the one to take the first step. Ben took the lead. Suddenly I thought: "My son is a godly leader. He has humbled himself in front of the very person hardest to do that in front of: his mom. " God alone prompted him to do that.
I took the note and skipped to his room.
"Ben, "I said, smiling and fighting back tears. "Thanks. This means...a lot...to me."
"ARe you gonna cry?" he asked, putting an arm around my shoulder."
"I might," I said. "You know me." We laughed.
And then he bent down--way down-- , hugged me, and gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek.
"I love you," I said, enjoying an embrace I hadn't had in years.
My firstborn had never looked taller, stronger, more handsome, and more angelic than at that moment.
"I love you, too, Mom."
That was last time I was broken. I was broken by the love of the Stone, the One who took my heart of stone and made it a heart of flesh. The one who did the same for my children.
I have to admit that, at first, my joy and gratitude was followed by fleeting doubts. "This won't last," the Enemy taunted. "He's just feeling guilted into it because Valentine's Day was lousy for you this year."
I told God I didn't want to believe that, I wanted to believe the best, that real and lasting fruit would come of this.
Glory to God, real and lasting fruit has resulted. Ben and I have not had a single argument since that day. We are really listening to each other. I am not telling him what to do, but letting him make more grown-up decisions. I am serving him much more cheerfully--putting gas in his car, keeping the pantry stocked with protein-rich tuna (his favorite body-building treat), being genuinely supportive of his school and lacrosse interests, making chiropractic appointments as needed without complaining. These sound simple enough, but when your heart's not into it, each some seems a burden. Now that the burden has been lifted, I feel free and at peace.
Tomorrow at 5 pm sharp, Ben turns 18. I can still remember the first time I laid eyes on him. For the first time in my life, I understood the verse that we are made in the image of God. Ben was perfect. Perfect for me, that is. Not a perfect person (although every mom is predisposed to think so when she's just delivered her baby). I said to Paul, "He's got the face of God."
I knew then that Benjamin was going to live up to his name of "son of my right hand"--
strength, leadership, diligence.
Happy 18th birthday, Ben. Thank you for modeling Christ to me. I love you very, very much.
Mom
Lk 20:17-18 "Then He looked at them [mostly chief priests, scribes and elders] and said, "What then is this that is written: The stone which the builders rejected Has become the chief cornerstone'? 18 Whoever falls on that stone will be broken, but on whomever it falls, it will grind him to powder."
These thoughts came to me:
1)Thank You, Jesus, that because of Calvary, and because You have made me righteous before God, I will not be one on whom the Stone's judgment falls. I will never be ground to powder because You, dear Jesus were whipped to a pulp in my place. How can I thank You enough?
2) When was the last time you fell on That Stone and were broken? Truly broken.
I think a few months ago I was desperate for a restored relationship with someone close to me. My oldest son, to be exact. Up until this year, Ben and I had had a relationship characterized by anger and unforgiveness, rooted in pride. I could say we're too much alike, but the fact is, we were both too UNLIKE Christ. That's shameful for a mom to admit, that she is not modeling Christ day in and day out. I didn't want to serve him; that was a red flag to me. You can serve anybody, but unless you love them, you don't do it cheerfully. That was me.
The guilt of my sinful words and attitudes kept me from good sleep, caused many headaches, and most of all from knowing true peace. I always thought, "If things are going to change, I'm going to have to be the first one. I have to take the lead on this."
Yet, that's not what happened. On February 15th, just before I went to bed, I found a card in an envelope on my bathroom vanity. It was a Valentine from Ben. He had made it on the computer, very simple and to the point, and wrote a message in his own hand. For the sake of privacy, I won't quote him exactly, but he said that he understood if I could't accept this gesture as genuine, but that he does love me, and hopes this message is the first step in reconciling us to each other. "Love, Ben."
I gulped. My eyes welled up. My heart swelled and then it broke.
As I stood there in the bathroom, reading and rereading this precious note, I wept with joy and gratitude. Joy at a new beginning. Gratitude that God had heard my prayer.
And a twinge of guilt that I hadn't been the one to take the first step. Ben took the lead. Suddenly I thought: "My son is a godly leader. He has humbled himself in front of the very person hardest to do that in front of: his mom. " God alone prompted him to do that.
I took the note and skipped to his room.
"Ben, "I said, smiling and fighting back tears. "Thanks. This means...a lot...to me."
"ARe you gonna cry?" he asked, putting an arm around my shoulder."
"I might," I said. "You know me." We laughed.
And then he bent down--way down-- , hugged me, and gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek.
"I love you," I said, enjoying an embrace I hadn't had in years.
My firstborn had never looked taller, stronger, more handsome, and more angelic than at that moment.
"I love you, too, Mom."
That was last time I was broken. I was broken by the love of the Stone, the One who took my heart of stone and made it a heart of flesh. The one who did the same for my children.
I have to admit that, at first, my joy and gratitude was followed by fleeting doubts. "This won't last," the Enemy taunted. "He's just feeling guilted into it because Valentine's Day was lousy for you this year."
I told God I didn't want to believe that, I wanted to believe the best, that real and lasting fruit would come of this.
Glory to God, real and lasting fruit has resulted. Ben and I have not had a single argument since that day. We are really listening to each other. I am not telling him what to do, but letting him make more grown-up decisions. I am serving him much more cheerfully--putting gas in his car, keeping the pantry stocked with protein-rich tuna (his favorite body-building treat), being genuinely supportive of his school and lacrosse interests, making chiropractic appointments as needed without complaining. These sound simple enough, but when your heart's not into it, each some seems a burden. Now that the burden has been lifted, I feel free and at peace.
Tomorrow at 5 pm sharp, Ben turns 18. I can still remember the first time I laid eyes on him. For the first time in my life, I understood the verse that we are made in the image of God. Ben was perfect. Perfect for me, that is. Not a perfect person (although every mom is predisposed to think so when she's just delivered her baby). I said to Paul, "He's got the face of God."
I knew then that Benjamin was going to live up to his name of "son of my right hand"--
strength, leadership, diligence.
Happy 18th birthday, Ben. Thank you for modeling Christ to me. I love you very, very much.
Mom
posted by Zoanna at
7:53 AM
4 Comments:
Oh my friend - your story brought tears to my eyes. I will pray that this happy ending of forgiveness and love be indeed a beginning, and that your new relationship with your son thrives and continues forever.
This must have been so difficult to share with us... and yet you did so, and did not spare yourself in the least while doing it.
You say it is hardest for a son to humble oneself in front of her Mum - but isn't it even harder for a mother to do so in front of her own child? The child that used to look up to her as someone who is always right, always the best.
Recognizing your own imperfection in front of your child makes you such a wonderful mom!
May the memory of those painful times remain only to make you and Ben revel in your present reunion, and want to preserve it forever!
Happy 18th Birthday, Ben!
I am overwhelmed! Thanks for sharing that!
Zoanna, how precious. I am so happy for you both. Happy Birthday, Ben!
That story made me tear up too! I'll be praying for both you and Be, and that true change will continue. Happy Birthday, Ben!
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