My Son in Whom I Am Well Pleased

In my fellowship, we celebrate the eucharist – we call it the Lord’s Supper or communion – every Sunday.

It’s a time at my church when someone shares some thoughts about the sacrifice of Jesus and a blessing each for the bread that is His body and the wine that is His blood.

This morning I confess I did not hear much of the thoughts shared by the fellow who presided at the table. That’s a shame in a way, because he always has good thoughts to share.

This morning I couldn’t help missing it.

My 12-year-old son Matthew was sitting next to me, as he always does. For some reason, his hand slipped into mine when that part of the service began. And it just stayed there, clasping mine tightly.

Not quite a man. No longer just a boy. Twelve years old. The age that boys sometimes stay behind in God’s house a while after mother and father leave.

All I could think of during this tiny shadow of a Paschal meal was how hard it would be to see others mock and spit upon my not-so-little boy. How difficult it would be not to obliterate them if they began to torture him. How impossible it would be to hold me back if they tried to kill him.

My boy isn’t perfect. He has anger issues. He torments his little sister. He’s having trouble in life sciences and failing pre-algebra.

But he’s my son. And while he does not always do or say what would please me, I am always well-pleased with him.

It won’t be long until he’ll be a teenager. He will choose the directions his life will take, and whether they include following the Jesus that I’ve told him about. He’ll be too cool to sit with me in church. He’ll be too big to hold my hand during the Supper.

While those moments last, they must be cherished.

They are communion, too.

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5 thoughts on “My Son in Whom I Am Well Pleased

  1. NOTHING…..let me say it again, NOTHING taught me more about the Father than having two boys of my own. Not all the great Bible teachers I had, not all the great sermons I heard by such great preachers as Jim Woodroof, Mike Cope, Neale Pryor, Jimmy Allen, Don Mclaughlin, etc. helped me to connect with God as much as having my own two sons! What a blessing, huh?No doubt you will always cherish 10/9/05.Thanks for sharing a Holy Moment with us!DU

  2. Cool thoughts. I feel similar things about my 10 year old daughter. She still wants me to tuck her in each night, I know that won’t last much longer. She’s alread embarassed to have Dad kiss her in public.

  3. No matter how hard I try to fathom God’s love for man, it’s impossible for me as a mere mortal to understand.Having children of our own gives us a glimpse into the workings and power of love, but as you indicated, no one is going to kill my son, I share that thought; so I can’t understand a love that sacrifices so much, yet it happened, and I thank God daily for not only offering His son, but His mercy and grace through Him.

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