Wasted

   There's this boy that I love. He consumes my thoughts and invades my dreams. He is my son.
  We don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. He is in full pursuit of whatever feels right to him at that particular moment, while I fear for his future.  It has been a long, painful journey during which I have poured out my heart, my soul, my tears, my prayers, and countless hours of my time trying to remedy the situation.
   The problem is that I am the only one in this duo who thinks there is a need for a remedy, so most days it feels like wasted effort.  Wasted tears. Wasted meetings. Wasted time. Wasted words.
   I know that God has the ultimate say, but I know how I want it to unfold. I see the warning signs. I obsess over the "what ifs". I ask for some reprieve. I think about Jesus shedding tears. Sweating blood. Wasting his very life away. So I take a deep breath and quietly whisper.... "There is this boy that I love, and I know You love him too......"