Every time my oldest leaves to visit his father, it stings. I hate letting him go. I hate having him fly all by himself. I hate being separated from him. Ugh. I never wanted that kind of life for him. His life gets disrupted--there is the whole disorder of coming from a broken family--and he got to choose none of it. His family life will never be natural, and it's hard not to feel that the sins of his mother are visited upon him.
He's safe on the ground now, and even though it stings, I am sure that the sins I committed to put him in this situation are forgiven. I could wallow in guilt, but each time his plane takes off I try to offer up my remorse and sadness for him for other children in painful, broken families. May God heal all of our brokenness and weakness and flaws.
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