Let the Trumpet blow for thee....

There was a band test today....one he wasn't prepared for.  He tried to practice yesterday, but was quickly frustrated and gave up.  His throat was hurting, his lips weren't cooperating, he had a headache.  The reasons were many.  He went to bed frustrated, saying he was too sick to go to school tomorrow.  Yes.  I have heard this one before.

This morning wasn't any better.  In fact, it was worse.  He wouldn't eat his breakfast.  He sat at the table complaining that he was too "sick" (again) to go to school until it was almost too late for him to change out of his pajamas.  I held it together for a while.  I wasn't giving in.  He wasn't giving in.  I had to go to work.  He couldn't stay home.  He finally went upstairs and got dressed.  I don't know if he brushed his teeth.  I don't know if he changed his underwear.  But he made it downstairs in time to leave.  He cried all the way to school.  Told me he wished I would believe him.  Wondered why I didn't trust him when he said he was sick.  Begged me to let him stay home.

We made it to school but he wasn't backing down.  Neither was I.  I couldn't get him out of the car the first time in carpool.  I dropped the older one off then circled back around and parked.  I told him again he was going to school.  I reassured him that it's ok not to be perfect; not to do well.  He would survive not passing the band test.  He cried harder.  I pulled back in carpool line.  He refused to get out.  I opened the van door as I sat there trying not to cry.  I told him he needed to go.  It was going to be ok.  A line of cars were backing up behind me.  He kept crying.  Cars now were going around me and looking back wondering what the holdup was.  I finally got out of the drivers seat, grabbed his band instrument, and told him it was time to go.  His final words were "Please don't do this to me". 

I drove to work numb.  What an awful mom.  Was it really that big of a deal to let him come to work with me, or pick him up early before the test?  (That was the final negotiation tactic he tried.)  My husband, Saint that he is, reassured me I did the right thing.  "He has to know he will survive days like this.  He has to realize the importance of being prepared.  If we do this once it will start a pattern."  I knew all of this, and yet, my heart was broken right in two.

I could barely focus at work and prayed for him all throughout the day.  When 2 p.m. came and I knew he would be taking his test, I prayed for God to help him. For God to comfort him when I couldn't.

I picked him up this afternoon.  He was happy to see me and even said he thought about me throughout the day.  I looked back at him and asked how it went.  "I made a 97".  I pulled the car over.  "A 97?!"  I hugged him and gave him a high five as he looked at me sheepishly. 

Thank you, Mom, is what he said.

Perseverance comes in many forms.....especially when you are a mom. God is good.