Weeping Women

   When our "Weeping Women", prayer time for prodigals, met last Monday and I prayed that the absence of the prodigal loved ones would not ruin Christmas for the rest of the family, I did not know I was praying for me. We had a wonderful plan worked out. Tracy would ride with his friend, Brodie, to Butte, we would drive to Missoula Saturday, drop off gifts and visit family, then pick Tracy up in Butte and drive home. It was a good plan, but the difference between our plans and God's is that His always happen and ours do not.
   The excited texts from Tracy making arrangements ended Wednesday night. When we heard nothing Thursday, I thought maybe Brodie's probation officer hadn't yet approved his leaving Friday instead of Saturday. When I went to bed Friday, still having heard nothing, I hoped it was a phone problem, like the last time. But on Saturday, knowing we were supposed to meet in Butte, and he still hadn't called, I knew he was drinking. We visited a few hours in Missoula and went home alone and disappointed. With Tracy. With God. What good were all those prayers for protection against the temptations of the season if he was going to drink anyway?
     My Mom has been dead for four years and the Ghost of those Christmases Past, overshadowed by her mental illness, have nearly disappeared. But perhaps now I will have a new ghost, this year, when Tracy chose to spend Christmas with the alcohol that's trying to kill him instead of the family that loves him. I knew that he would have his own ghosts of loss and pain to deal with, but in Billings he had more support and safeguards to help with that than he ever did here--sober housing, friends, AA, and our plan to get him home for the holidays. I know God provided several ways for him to escape the temptation, but I also know from my own experience that it is easy to look under, over, and around those ways of escape.
     So God did not answer my prayers for a sober Christmas for Tracy the way I wanted Him to, but He did answer the one about not letting it ruin Christmas. We had Christmas Eve fondue at Britten's house, Christmas brunch at Will's, dinner at mine. My granddaughter provided the entertainment all three venues. God answered my confusion Saturday with the message, "I am here". And my anger and disappointment Sunday with "Am I not God?" and later, "Am I not enough?" He is. And he answered my prayer that He show me His love with Sunday's guest sermon, "The Wonder of God's Love".  As I was listening to the message, the Holy Spirit sent me His own, "If Tracy came home, even now, after all the pain he has caused, would you welcome him?" My unspoken answer--Yes. He responded, "Now you understand my love." But I know I do not, my love is but a grain of sand compared to His. If God did not follow my plan, it is because He is working His bigger, better version. Because I do not just want Tracy with his family for Christmas, I want him with God's family forever. And that prayer is worth the wait, and the weeping.