Dear A.,

You are finally asleep in your big boy bed after a long bout of tears and wailing tonight. You kept saying, "Dora!" but then it turned to "Daddy!" and I think all the activity of this week has been just too much for you. You finally fell asleep when Elmo joined Daddy and you and I on your double bed, and you knew we were still here.

Since it is after midnight, later today your Daddy and I will leave for a trip for eleven days, and Aunt Kiki (one of our students and your beloved babysitter) will stay with you.

Knowing you, it will be a hard week in some ways, but you will adjust. You will have your moments, I am sure, but generally you will be fine until we get back and then will have the mother of all meltdowns that next week.

What I wish your two-year old mind could understand is how difficult it will be to leave you, and yet in many ways how important as well. And, of course, if I could bottle all the hugs and kisses and love from me and Daddy to give you while we are gone, it would be done!

Right now, you desperately want to be the center of our world - and in so many ways you are and that is how it should be! But at the same time, if every time you cried or threw a fit, we gave you what you wanted, that would not help you to grow into the boy and man we want you to become.

Being both a mother and a pastor is often very hard. There is a constant juggling act between family and students (my parishioners), both of whom I love deeply. Both of whom I am called to nurture. Both of whom I serve.

Being on this campus has really been the best of all worlds, because I have not had to choose which one would come first because here I have the freedom to put you both first. Until now.

The questions, "Will I scar him for life? Will he be ok? Will he get the love he needs? Will his medicine be given like I would? Etc..." go through my mind constantly as I make final arrangements for this trip. Surprisingly, your father doesn't have the same kind of anguish I do about leaving you - maybe because he has to for his job, or maybe because I'm just a basket case. Either way, it is different for him. But for me, it feels like my heart is tearing in two.

And then I think about the 15 students who are going to Taize. The amount of growth and maturity I've seen in them. The excitement about taking this pilgrimage together.

I see what this trip has done for Campus Ministry here - the momentum it has elicited from students and donors alike. The amount of pride that we can do something big.

And I think about how important it is for these students from all different traditions - all with various family stories and faith histories - to at least spend a week trying to listen for the voice of God, and at most be transformed by what the Beloved will say to them.

And in my heart I know that what I want for you is someone down the line to take you on this kind of pilgrimage. To set this kind of adventure and challenge before you. To help you listen for the voice of God telling you you are the beloved. I want someone in your life - heck, a lot of someones! - to help you grow into God's love for you and in turn share and show that love to others. And in your own way, I want you to grow up to be the kind of man who will set before another group of students this kind of invitation to discipleship.

Now I know it would have been easy enough for your Dad to stay with you this week, and I could have taken the students on my own. All I can say is that when you have a partner in life, there are some things that you want to do together. Some events you need to share individually and for the spiritual and emotional growth of the couple. This is one of those times for us.

I know in your two-year old mind it will feel like we are gone forever, and you will not understand why. What I hope you do know, though, is how much we love you. How much we will miss you. And how much, even in the midst of this wonderful experience, we will long to be home with you.

All my love,
Your Mom