Boys

 

Our older son has been riding a motorcycle for a couple years now.  Before he returned to college this Fall, I mentioned to him that it would be fun if our younger son and I had motorcycles next summer so we could ride together.  He loved the idea, and I began to help our younger son search for one.

After a couple of months of looking on the internet, I saw something which had potential and decided to contact the owner. He was, literally, a little old man.  I sent him a message and didn’t hear anything for a couple of days.  I figured he was illiterate in the ways of the internet (turns out he wasn't). Then he messaged an answer to my question, and we began a conversation about what our family was trying to do. 

The gentleman was the type of person I like buying from. He seemed to have taken good care of the bike.  His listing information was voluminous, perhaps the best listing I’ve ever seen.  It didn’t take long to conclude this could be a win-win for all of us. 

Then I asked Asher what he thought.  His response was “If you think it’s a good deal and a good purchase, I’d be open to it, but I’m not super excited about the bike.”  That’s all I needed to hear.  I messaged the gentleman the essence of that conversation and that we were passing.  He said he understood.

That evening, I was looking at another bike Asher had indicated he liked.  The price was a little high and it had a few obvious but repairable issues.  Out of curiosity I messaged the seller (a local motorcycle dealer) and asked if the bike had other issues.  He said other than the carburetors needing cleaning and those problems I had seen in the pictures, the bike was fine.  Then he told me they had just lowered the price (significantly) because they didn’t want to have to do the repairs themselves. 

I spoke to our older son, who said if we didn’t buy it, he would - sight unseen.  He had been looking for this style of bike but hadn’t seen a decent one at the right price.  I spoke to another friend who has worked on our older son’s bike.  He actually volunteered to take a look at this one.

The following morning, I took off work and my boy and I headed to the dealer.  The bike looked as good as the pictures portrayed.  We chatted a while with the salesman.  The mechanic friend who had offered to come look showed up, and gave us the thumbs up.

We left with a motorcycle.

My boy smiled the whole way home.  He had found a bike he could be excited about.

Now the plan is to upgrade our older boy’s bike with something he would prefer, and I would take over his Honda Shadow. 

Boys.  You gotta love us.

Limited View

Our son came home for a visit from college a few weekends ago.  He seemed a little out of sorts – maybe a little down or discouraged – very uncharacteristic.  The following weekend, I decided to make a quick trip up to see him for an afternoon.

On the way there, I thought of what I could tell him.  I knew he was struggling with some of his classes and was even a little uncertain what the future would hold for him.  I knew all to well what that felt like.  He had heard my tales already.  He didn’t need to hear them again.

A current situation involving some work I do was also on my mind.  This particular work has had its ups and downs.  There were periods when it was more of a struggle than usual.  During those times, I viewed it as an annoyance, as something to get through, as one more thing to add stress to my life. After many years, that particular work is likely coming to an end, but here’s the thing – as I look back over the years, that work situation is currently in the perfect place to bring it to an end.  I can now look back and see how those years of struggle perfectly set up events to bring it all to a great conclusion. 

Of course, during the years of struggle, I had no idea of what today would look like.  I could not see into the future.  I was operating under my own understanding, which was extremely limited.  IF I could have had a glimpse into the future, of today, it would have changed my whole attitude during those difficult years and the struggles during that time.

THIS is the difference between our view and (if you believe in God) God’s view.  I can just imagine God looking at my frustration and thinking “If Brent only knew how this will eventually play out…”  There is simply no comparison between the two views.

We will never see as God sees.  But we DO have hope.  Our hope lies in trusting that one of us (either God or us) has a view of the whole picture.  Obviously, it’s not us.  But trusting the One who does have that view – well – that is basically the definition of faith.  Faith doesn’t necessarily change the circumstances (it seems it rarely does, and isn't meant to).  Faith gives us hope that it is o.k. despite the circumstances.

Practically speaking, what this means is that with our very limited view, it’s terribly difficult to know the best course in any given situation.  All we can do is apply good principles.  Even trusting God for guidance doesn’t always pan out as we want.  Sometimes His answer is completely vague.  Maybe it’s because what He is actually saying is “Well, first take this step, which will actually result in more stress, but it’s necessary. Then you will take another step – also stressful…” 

I thought of all this with our son in mind.  It basically meant that in advising him, I needed to remember that I had limited understanding of what God might be doing.  I could only give general principles.  Realistically, what needs to happen may be a long series of steps which I would possibly never advise or even consider in order for him to get to the exact place he is intended to be.

As a matter of fact, this was my all reminiscent of my own path.  Those feelings I had while going through this myself are vivid in my memory, which was partly what prompted me to make the trip to see our son.  I have often looked back and wondered if I got off the best path for my own life.  Perhaps I have been looking at it entirely backwards.  Perhaps where I ended up is exactly where I was meant to be. 

I arrived before noon, and with these thoughts in mind, my son and I talked for several hours.  I tried to relate all this to him. He listened intently.  I barely offered any advice, but stuck to sharing my heart with him.

After I left, he sent me a message thanking me for making the drive up to see him and that he enjoyed getting to talk to me.  I replied to him that the main thing I wanted him to know with certainty was this:

You are not in this alone.

You cannot disappoint me in the path you choose.

You will make it to your goal one way or another.