Driving home from VBS today – listening to the type of remarks I’ve been hearing from my 12 year old son after any get together in Lincoln City.  He ponders the vocabulary of the other kids. Their actions.  He’s starting to see clicks. Cool Kids. Small kids. Picked on Kids. Bullies. He retells the conversations and activities of the kids.

I watch him this week. Seldom in huddle with the boys. I see his eyes. Observant. Learning. Not wanting to startle the birds while he draws sort of look.  Mentally note taking.  I listen to him this week. Hearing how their actions make him feel. Bewilderment, sad, some funny.

The biggest line of conversation this week has been about vocabulary.  Who curses. And I’m not talking about mom’s saying Crap, or the occasional flying F word here.  I mean as in conversationally. Using them for your every day conversational adjectives and adverbs. Sometimes as the noun and the verb. (Over heard a neighbor on a phone call use the F word over 20 times, and I sort of understood what she was talking about) I’m talking about the way they speak to each other. Using the words for demeaning another.

“It’s opposite here.  The Cool Kids cuss. Do crazy things. Don’t know God. They don’t cuss around me. I told them I don’t. (its day 4 of vbs today) Now, they just don’t. If Connor were here for a day, they wouldn’t do other things either.”

Oh.  For the love of the Connors of the world. And Skylers. And Erics. And Max and Alex’s. For the Nicholas’s.  And Seans and Finns and Joels and Nathans. For the Evans and Chris’s and McKennas. For the Shane’s and Tre’s.  Jordon. My Son’s Heroes. The ones who have gone before. Who have shown him how to have crazy fun – while loving the Lord with his whole heart.

“I bet they’d switch sides if they saw Joel jump the river in a small bmx bike – without cussing.”  “I bet they’d like the knives Nicholas makes and would like what we do with them.” “They’d go crazy with the night games and Air Soft Paint Wars.” “These kids are bored – and have nothing to speak about – so the cuss. They don’t even know how to have fun – without being rude and dangerous”.

I am fearful to interrupt. I am fearful to ask what side he wants to be on. The Cool Side is appealing. But is it appealing if they are wrong? I want to give my mom talk. I keep listening. Good thing VBS is on the opposite side of town. Long Drive. 🙂

As we approach our driveway – I mention that if he can get one or two other boys – to stand firm and behave as they want to in front of the “cool Kids” – that they could form the majority – and they’d be the cool ones, just like Max and Connor and Joel.

Oh. But Nate’s already thought of this. He has one on his side already. I can see the eyes. I see his face. I see the challenge. I see the goal. The little smirk that a mom can see in the corner of his mouth and eyes. The Holy Spirit has challenged his heart.  Not to become  a Connor. But to become like Christ. Not to be a crazy Joel, but to live adventurously in the moment. And to gather a group around him.

I come in and write a thank you to a few of these boys on Facebook.  Nate asks why I’m writing down their names.  So we can pray I answer. That they will stand up and continue to be all that we think they are. That they realize who they are effecting. Even across mountains. And I am so thankful – that tears are even now still streaming down my face. Quiet thankful tears. That my son’s heroes are real. Tangible. Touchable.

I used to wonder why God sent us to Lincoln City.  Now I marvel that He sent us to Bend first. To collect these experiences – before moving on in our lives. Sam at Crystal Peaks. Ian at Compass. Gary Lewis. Mr. Mark at Cossa. Troy building work benches and rockets. Mr. Greenlee speaking truth. Mr. Briggs leading. Mr. Conger changing our government.  For Young men serving Christ.

I am glad to have local and national history books. Glad to study the Old Testament. Gladder still – that men are living now – who continue to rock our world.

Maybe some of the moisture on my cheeks comes from knowing – that my boys are transitioning. That they are in the age of those mentioned above when we first met them. That they may one day become examples  for those who walk along beside. I pray – that they will continue forward – growing into the young men I know they will be.

If you are a mom – of one of these boys – reading this – I thank you. If I’ve left out your son’s name – know I will think of him later today. Or your husband that has walked along my boys – We appreciate it. I thank you.