Growing Older, or Growing Up?

16...12...40...8.

This is a big year for milestone birthdays in our family.  

Jared turned 16 on Saturday.  The last few weeks have seen him behind a steering wheel, and cleaning the  basement.  He has also been staying busy with play practice and school, but those activities are old friends.  Turning 16 means it is time for Mom and Dad to turn their time and attention back on him again.  Daniel has been taking extra time after work and on the weekends so Jared can practice driving.  I insisted he plan a party and invite guests, both male and female - just for the experience.  

Ever since the announcement was made to change the missionary age to 18, I've been fully aware that Jared will be facing the world soon.  Growing older can be done in his sleep, but that is no way to prepare for the life he came here to live. As parents, I think we want our children to know everything we have learned, but without the hard experiences which taught us.  If I could give him one thing in these next few years, it would be an understanding that God loves him, even more than I do. When his challenges seem overwhelming or too hard to bear, to recognize that God is mindful of him. The things we struggle with most may be the very means of obtaining life's precious lessons and gifts.  This is the process of growing up. 

Pencils

 I remember life before personal computers and mobile phones.  Maybe that is why I love pencils.  In the days before word processors (and backspace), my thoughts were collected letter by letter, line by line.  Writing by hand was slow enough that I could usually edit my thoughts before they reached the page.  The commitment of words on the paper was sufficient motivation to continue building on the foundation I started with, but having a good eraser on hand was comfort enough to me to override my desire for perfection and start creating without knowing the direction or quality of the end result.  (Come to think of it, given a choice, I will seldom use a pencil without an eraser.)  With a pencil, I am free to create.  In contrast, this post has no evidence of my many starts and edits just to think of a topic to write about.  With the backspace it is as if it never existed.  Unlike writing by hand, it is easier to delete than create, so I find most of what I spend time writing is gone without a trace, and no incentive to keep it and explore where those thoughts would have led.

My pencils have entertained me through many hours of church meetings.  I notice that a persistent lack of floral arrangements has shifted my purpose from drawing to note-taking, but in either case the end result is as much my own creation as it is representative of the original subject.  On long, hot summer days, a pencil was as good company outside as a book was inside.

So why am I nostalgic about pencils today?  It is a symbol representing creation for me. I have been through a normal share of life events recently that have left me feeling disconnected from my routines and purpose.  I have found I feel more alive and engaged with life when I create.   While some people create with objects, manipulating colors or textures until they are satisfied, my creations usually begin as fleeting thoughts which need to be captured before they escape or nurtured word by word until they take form.