From January, 2015
Continued from a Glimpse of Grace
I wish I could have ended the last post with, “And they lived happily ever after.” But real life isn’t that way. As much I sometimes feel as if I’m living a beautiful and poignant movie, it is definitely not a fairy tale.
Roma’s repentant confession that his eyes had been opened to the one and only Jesus, didn’t mean he wouldn’t wander off again, seeking his own way, pursuing worldly treasures and comfort, and running from the plan God had for him.
But I was behaving the same way as Roma, seeking my own way, when I was more than twice his age. I still do it! In the early months of the new millennium, I was clinging to my treasure of comfort with tight fists, when God came powerfully, asking me to put it down. He offered me a better treasure. Read But the Greatest of These is Love to learn about that battle between God and me. Spoiler alert: God won the battle in 2002, but I won the prize of transformed faith, and the priceless Gift of my son, Roma.
Roma came home on December 20 for eleven days. Miraculously, God connected us with his family, before he headed back to Atlanta for the Passion 2015 Christian young adult conference. He was bathed in the Glory of God. His posts on Facebook were unashamed love offerings to a God he knew intimately. I was already overwhelmed by the joy of finding Roma’s sister, not knowing that more family members would reveal themselves in a matter of days, as the amazing Family Connections series unfolded. The blessings of Roma’s expanding faith was evident by his peace over the holidays and his exuberance in attending a Christian conference of young adults. We seemed to have rounded a corner on his stubbornness.
Roma called me after the Passion weekend conference ended. He was floating on a Divine cloud. He was waiting for Ella to pick him up to go back to her house and begin the after-Christmas work she had for him. I had learned from Roma’s time at home that Ella and her husband Charles had a camper parked in their driveway that they rented to Roma. He was learning life skills and responsibility, and someone else beside Bruce and me were confirming the necessity of Roma’s growth. While in the loving care of this family in Atlanta, Roma had the illusion of being independent, which he wanted, yet he had a God-given family as mentors, which he needed.
My prayer time was spent praising God for answered prayers for which I hadn’t even known to ask. Could life get any better than this?
The morning after Ella picked Roma up from the conference, she called me, very distraught. Charles had kicked him out of their home the night before, and driven him to a local hotel where he had to spend his last paycheck for his lodging.
What in the world now, I was asking myself, almost sick to my stomach.
One rule Charles made clear to Roma when he allowed him to live on his property and hang out in his home was that his children’s bedrooms were off limits to Roma. Roma had been so excited by his weekend at Passion and his news about finding his sister, he had mindlessly followed Henry,15, with whom he had traveled to Idaho, into his room telling him about his incredible adventures since they had last been together. He had also left evidence of tobacco and marijuana use in the camper, which had been discovered over the Christmas break, before Roma’s transformative time away. Charles had every right to be upset about his loss of trust in Roma.
Ella was heartbroken to have to tell me the bad news. She felt compassion for Roma, and yet understood her husband’s reaction.
I understood Charles’ protectiveness of his children. I told her not to worry about it, and I thanked her for her gentle care and opportunities she had given my boy.
“You would’ve been very proud of Roma.” she added. “He acted like a man. He didn’t get upset. He shook Charles’ hand and thanked him for everything he had done for him. You would have been so proud of him,” a heartsick Ella told me.
I was proud of him. I had seen glimpses of that mature and reasonable side of my man-child before. How far he had come. Getting caught dipping tobacco too many times and his disrespect had caused his dismissal from Fork Union, a disappointment he told me was one of the worst of his life. He had learned a valuable lesson. Here, twenty months later, in the early days of 2015, he had gotten kicked out of his safe and love-filled shelter in Atlanta, and he behaved like a man of integrity. Yes, I was proud.
“Roma can come home,” I told Ella. “I’ll pay for a bus ticket home. I’ll call and talk to him.” It seemed like a reasonable offer, since Roma was coming along, still a project, like I am.
Roma rode the bus all night and I picked him up at the metro station the next morning. True to Roma’s style, he acted like it was no big deal. One more unpleasant and disappointing experience that he just wanted to put in the past. We talked instead about his days at Passion. He was still excited telling me about the speakers and the music.
“I’m going back next year. I can go back until I’m 25, then I can go back as a door holder.”
“Roma, it just occurred to me that you might one day go back as a speaker.”
“Oh, Mom.” He slumped back against the seat, as though he understood my words could be a possibility. God had been building his testimony for his whole life. God met Roma around every corner. Roma had the charm and the magnetism to hold a crowd’s attention. Roma would be an effective witness.
In January, 2015, the year was new. Roma had a healing connection to his first family. Now he needs a job. He’s expressed an interest in returning to school. That possibility makes my heart soar. Roma is intelligent, but still immature. He’s been unmotivated, at least, until now. But a lot has happened in the past year to change him.
I have to be careful with any advice I offer, because my approval sometimes is the kiss of death to good ideas for my strong-willed boy. He has to decide for himself. He had researched being an Emergency Medical Technician.
I pray that Roma will allow himself to be directed by God, that all he has gone through in the past year, his God-stories, the answered prayers, were laying a firm foundation of faith in a God who is not silent.
I had to keep reminding myself that I needed to pray that same prayer for myself. Neither Roma nor I were in control. And that was a good thing for which I could be thankful!
“Roma has gifts,” one friend had remarked with wide eyes, after a brief introduction to charismatic Roma. And there is no denying the truth of that statement. He has abundant gifts. I have been writing down his God-stories for posterity. Even though he doesn’t read all my blog posts, he is still aware that God is intimately pursuing him. Maybe God told me to write it all down because Roma won’t, and so Roma can see the extent of what God had been doing for him his whole life. Roma is special. Even I am beginning to understand just a bit of the extent of Roma’s Gifts. The stories of evidence are documented, in case he needs reminders when he shares his testimony.
Continue with The Recurring Theme of Surrender
Consider it all JOY 
