Author: Brad Whitt

Recently children all across the country woke up early, got dressed in their new clothes, ate a quick breakfast and headed out the door for the first day of the new school year. There was an evident excitement, and no doubt some apprehension, as they walked into that new class and sat in a new seat on that first day of school. Some were excited to see their friends. Other were excited to have moved up another grade. Probably one or two were excited about being back in the class, after a boring summer off, ready to learn something. Now, I admit, when I was in elementary school, middle school and even high school I wasn't the best student. I normally made the principle's list, but not in the good sort of way. There were classes that I did very well in - reading, art, history, study hall - and there were classes that I didn't do so well in - math, math, math and oh yeah, Spanish. (I remember one six weeks where a note was written on the back of my report card giving my actual grade along with an explanation that if that grade were to have been given there was no way I would pass the class for the year. From what I could tell she REALLY wanted me to pass and move on.) In spite of my poor grades in some classes I somehow managed to graduate with honors. (Guardian angel at work?)

"But those who wait on the LORD Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31 Isaiah shares here the rather surprising steps in our spiritual progression. He tells us that those who wait on the Lord will fly, and then run, then walk. The order of these steps seems rather strange at first glance. To begin by soaring on eagle's wings, and then to drop into run, only to descend further into a slow, steady walk. This doesn't appear to be upward progress, but rather that of a spiritual descent. This is the true order of the life of Christ in the believer. When Christ first comes into my life, there is a sudden soaring that takes place in my soul. I am as the apostle says, "caught up to meet the Lord in the air." The world and its many appeals seem so distant and dreary, and its population are like grasshoppers as I'm caught up in the flight of my new faith. After a while, I settle down to a swift run, but even then my earthly contact is only momentary like that of a seasoned, conditioned runner. The immediate exhilaration of salvation has subsided, but the steady pace of mature faith has not yet come. My faith is running, but it isn't weary.

"Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it." Proverbs 22:6 I was there. I saw it all happen. A mother and father in their early thirties walked with their young son to the bus stop and waited for the school bus to arrive. A few short minutes later the big yellow bus turned the corner and rolled into sight. The lights began to flash. The stop sign sprang forward. The doors swung open, and this young family looked at each other with sadness in their eyes. A quick kiss on the cheek, a big hug, a forced smile and off he went. He walked up the steps and found a seat. So big, so brave, so grown up, headed off to the first day of school. The doors of the bus closed behind a few older kids as they scrambled to get to their seats. The stop sign returned to its closed position as the lights stopped flashing. The sounds of the motor and the smell of the propane diverted most people's attention from the mom and dad as they hugged each other, wiped away the tears and began to walk slowly back toward their house. It was an emotional moment that I understood completely. As a father of four children, all under the age of eight, I'm learning daily that one of the most difficult lessons that any parent has to learn is how to let go. That is something that we all learn - willingly or unwillingly - as parents. This lesson begins as soon as we bring our first baby home from the hospital. We bring that little bundle of joy home, and we want to hold them all night long, but we have to let them go to sleep. We love holding them as they take those first steps, but soon they can walk on their own, and we have to let go. We like holding their hand as we walk around the neighborhood, or into the church building, but soon they are telling us that they can do it by themselves. We hold onto the back of their bicycle after having removed the training wheels, but then they peddle past our grip, and we have to let go. Fast forward a few years and we're letting go as they drive off to college or walk down the aisle to say "I do" in front on a preacher. A parent has to get good at letting go.