What an interesting day yesterday. I was honored to be on a podcast with two of my heroes. As incredible as that is and was, I had a call with one of our children going through life. They said, “I still feel like something is missing.” Before you say “They need Jesus” I wish I had THEIR faith because they are secure.
I can’t give out the details of that podcast from yesterday and if I told my younger self I would GET to do that one day, I would have never believed it. Incredible. Just incredible. It all turns out okay.
Back to the words one of my children said though. Those are WAY more important than any interview I will ever do. Because it’s my child and God gave us that child. Their heart, soul, feelings, emotions, and journey are ours. Until we can’t anymore. You are a father forever.
On my way to work, I spoke to that child. They said, “I was thinking about coming home this weekend.” My heart smiled and my heart hurt. I’ve been there because I went home a lot after I left for college. I needed a place to lay down my sword and shield.
I needed a place to be who I was not who people wanted me to be. I needed a place to heal from the mental battles.
I needed home.
Twila Paris once sang
They don’t know that I go running home when I fall down
They don’t know who picks me up when no one is around
I drop my sword and cry for just a while
‘Cause deep inside this armor
The warrior is a child
That is still so true today.
I have two messages in this post.
I can’t “go running home” when I fall anymore. My mama can’t sit on the front porch at 83 Woodrow and untie my knots with a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade. I’m on my own now.
I miss 83 Woodrow.
We have 3 of our own now. They are me still needing to come home. We are blessed that they still want to. It’s where we untie their knots. My bride has created a space for them to lay down their sword and shield for a minute. To just be the amazing children who she stitched early in their hearts to be.
Psalm 63:7 has such a great line. One of my favorite verses.
“I sing in the shadow of your wings.”
We all need that shadow. We all need a place to sing. We need a place to hurt, heal, and return to battle. Until we reach our forever home, we can only try to make it here.
What people don’t know is that I was raised at 83 Woodrow in Bedford, Ohio. That was “the shadow of your wings.” That was the place where I would lay down the sword and shield and cry for just a while. That was the space I went to when I fell down.
Now I can’t.
So my hope and prayer is that my bride and I have created that space for our kids to do that. That is the payoff. That is the moment. That is the win.
To my child who called me yesterday, I am sorry I cried talking about 83 Woodrow. Come on home to 4984 in Hilliard. We’ll let you drop your sword and cry for just a while.
AARON CONRAD 