I went to bed last night with a heavy heart. I woke up this morning not quite rested and my heart still hurting with the pain of disappointment and sadness.  Yesterday afternoon Nico received the final high school acceptance letter and the one he had been waiting for. As it turns out, it was the one I was waiting for too, even if I didn’t realize it before.  It was the letter from the school that was at the top of Nico’s list. The school which is competitive but known for the social good it does, grooming young men to become men of character, and men active in the community. It was the school where Nico thought he could re-invent himself, and grow into the young man he sees himself becoming. As he dreamed aloud of attending this school, I dreamt along with him. His dream, my dream, ended in the form a a single legal-sized envelope with a letter of non-acceptance.

It was a nice letter, as rejection letters go. Softening the blow, that is sure to impact the self-esteem of some of the 400+ applicants who didn’t get accepted. But, the encouraging words of reassurance did not go far enough to comfort my son. He bravely tried to hold back his tears as his dad and step-dad broke the news. Talk about a bad day.  His baseball team lost its season opener 14-13. Juan and Nico’s dad were there to watch the game. Then, they broke the news as gently as they could. As soon as I got home I went to his room where Nico was laying on his bed, his eyes puffy and his cheeks still damp with tears. I tried my best to comfort him and tell him that the two schools which had accepted him, were wonderful schools and told him how fortunate he is to have such opportunity, to have a choice. Even as I said this, I felt like it rang hollow for me too. My ego, my ambition, my vision for my son was all wrapped up in his acceptance at THE SCHOOL.  I left him alone in the dark of his room crying.  Molly, our dog, whimpered as she tried to get to the top bunk where he lay.  I went to my room and re-read the rejection letter, and looked over the materials from the schools that had accepted him. As I read through the materials, I thought about how confident  I was that he would be accepted to his school of choice,  and how he would thrive there. I thought how much I would enjoy being a part of that school community too.  I thought about all the plans I made and how I felt certain that Nico’s attendance at this school was all part of a plan–God’s plan.  I was certain of it. I prayed for it. How could he not be accepted? As I said good night to Nico, I reassured him that it would be okay. I went to bed wanting to believe that too.

While I was getting ready for church this morning I told Juan how I felt. How I felt certain that this was the wrong thing.  Nico was meant to go to this school. This was were he would grow to be the man I envisioned him to be. He would have a fantastic high school experience and go onto college from there. Juan told me that God wasn’t a genie in a lamp. Nico could and would have a good high school experience. Disappointment was a part of life and obviously my plan really wasn’t God’s plan.  We left for church and as I sat in the pew I found peace in the music of the youth choir and in the sacred space.  The rector started his sermon.  It was funny and meaningful. He talked about God’s grace. He spoke of his busy schedule, but how he makes time  every morning to begin his day with an hour of prayer. He told us how he prays about his schedule for that day.  This is when he hears God’s voice. God’s voice telling him that God is in charge of the schedule. Our rector has his own idea of the day’s events but God just wants him to:

1. Show up

2. Pay attention

3. Tell the truth

4. Don’t get attached to the results.

Our rector said that what makes us crazy and stresses us out is getting so caught up trying to engineer and manipulate situations. Our desire to try to control how we want life to turn out prevents us from doing the great things that God wants us to do. It was all so relevant to me, but it was number four–Don’t get attached to the results–that caused Juan and I to look at each other, knowingly.  I was stunned. That was it. I was too attached to the results. Getting too attached to the results caused me  to be unaware of God’s grace. God’s grace that is free and available to everyone.  To me, to you and to my 13 year-old son who won’t be going to his first choice high school, but who will become the man that God intends him to be despite my best efforts to engineer things the way I want. Grace just comes.

Amen.