A Servant Heart

A couple of weeks ago I chaperoned the high school band for a football game. The game went into overtime. We were late getting all the kids back to the school. As I was leaving the school building, I ran into a mom looking for her son. I told her that she could be very proud. Her son was helping unload the equipment from the truck. I thought the mom would be so thankful that her son was helping out other band members and serving the band. She was not happy. She said that she did not want him to do that anymore, he needed to be home, she was waiting, and he needed to leave. It really made me sad that she didn’t value his service. I was very proud of my son for helping out and staying until the job was completed. I determined in my heart that I would never harbor an attitude that didn’t appreciate my son for serving. I bet you can guess what happens when I use the word never in a sentence. My conviction was challenged this weekend. My son with his wonderfully big heart, signed up to donate blood at school last Friday. I made sure he had a good breakfast and brought him a protein snack for after school. He had a big weekend planned: performing at the out of town football game Friday night, college tour and seminars all day Saturday, worship on Sunday, and a birthday party all Sunday afternoon. What I did not find out until very late Friday night: my son donated platelets. They filter your blood to extract needed platelets and then re-inject your blood at lower than room temperature. He was warned to not drive or exercise for 24 hours, that he would be cold (from the inside out), and to that he would be hungry and need to eat. He was told not to go to the football game but to go home and rest. The first I heard about all this was when my son sent me a text message when we were on the busses headed back to school. He told me that he was not supposed to drive for 24 hours so could he ride home from school with me. On the ride home, he shared all the information the donation center had advised. He also told me that he was so cold at the game that he went into the restroom just to stand under the heater. I am so glad that God had hold of my tongue. I wanted to fuss at him for taking such risks with his health in going to the game. Instead, God gently led me to ask, “Why did you decide to donate platelets instead of just regular blood?” His reply was, “They said they had a very desperate need. I could meet that need so I did.” My heart did a flip-flop. There are so many times as a parent that you don’t know if you are getting through or being successful as a parent. There have been many time that I have been discouraged as a parent thinking that I have messed up so bad. But God takes our messes and makes them beautiful. My son chose to be a servant. He is living out a value that his dad and I have wanted to plant in his heart. I praise God that He held my tongue and allowed me to see into Garrett’s heart. I am thankful that I was able to cook hamburgers, quesadillas and hot chocolate at 1 AM for my cold, hungry servant. May God continue to work on all of our hearts.