Recently, we attended parties celebrating milestones achieved by dear friends. One will attend Christian college after graduating high school; one begins a first job after competing as a student-athlete for another Christian school. Posted on our refrigerator, the invitations were reminders—not just of party dates, but also of pain we are navigating as parents.
Two years ago, our college-aged son came home for the summer. Never an easy relationship, our interactions felt even more strained than usual, consisting primarily of watching his silent stalk from one room to another before closing the door. Invitations to connect—over a meal, over coffee, over anything—mainly seemed like inconveniences. Respecting his cues, we backed off, working to lower our expectations. But my mama-heart longed for a son who longed to be close to those who love him most.
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