The Best Path

The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit. Psalm 34:18

I was nearly 16 when we left my favorite place in the world, San Diego, California, to move to the Podunk town of Hixson, Tennessee. Someone certainly thought of an appropriate name for that place, I thought way back then. The high school years are a horrible time for such drastic changes in a teenager’s life. I had good friends and a good school. I liked my life as it was and I did not want it to change. I certainly did not want to move to a place where everyone spoke with a weird accent and talked about buggies in the grocery store and stove eyes in the kitchen. What were my parents thinking? What was God thinking? But we did move. My parents took me, practically kicking and screaming, across the continent and away from everything that was familiar. Eventually, it became home. I grew accustomed to the accent and even adopted it myself. I learned exactly how to say “ice” and that all carbonated drinks were called “coke”. The kids at school were normal kids, most of them. I really expected red hair and bare feet. I made friends and fell in love with the south. Years later, I realized that leaving California was the best thing for me. God had a plan for my life. He knew the best path.

Fast forward nearly three decades and I find my son in the same situation. We left Romania just days before his 16^th birthday. The culture here in the States is practically foreign to him. He has left his best friend and a life he loved in a country he will probably never live in again. He is broken hearted and must be wondering what God is thinking.

Over the years, I have seen first hand how God has worked in my life. He has led me through difficult times, challenges, failures and tragedies. Time after time He has healed my broken heart and I have become stronger because of the trials. Now my children are growing up. I know that in this life, they will face their own struggles. The sorrow of life cannot always be healed with a mother’s kiss and a band-aid. Children grow up and they must learn to rely on the One who directs their steps, the One who loves them so much more than their mother. It is breaking my heart to see his heart broken. I kneel down and ask God to hold him close, so close that he can feel God’s presence and know that God does indeed have a reason for that path He has asked us to walk. I am trusting Him to heal broken hearts.

He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds. Psalm 147:3