Troy was born around the same time we wrote our first missionary newsletter. It was Christmas time. Here's an excerpt:
Christmas 1991 takes on more meaning to me in light of the birth of my first child. Often I find myself just staring at this new little baby for what seems life forever. I love to look at his tiny feet and wonder... will they learn to kick soccer balls? When his small hands curl around my finger I look in amazement thinking how perfectly his long fingers could dance upon piano keys.
So we began this missionary journey with this little boy dreaming big dreams for him from the very beginning. He never did play much soccer as we thought he would. We ended up in the only Latin American country that could care less about soccer.
But his long fingers did develop a wonderful talent for worship playing both piano and guitar. And he God put his hand on Troy at an early age. From the time he was very young Troy always participated in minstry. Somtimes through puppetry, or magic tricks, and sometimes with his music. When Troy was 12 years old, at the ending prayer of an outreach, Troy felt God calling him to be a missionary to Spain.
I remember when he told me about it, I wondered if he would stick with that plan. Over the years he has never waivered from the calling and today he is preparing for a future ministry in Spain at Wheaton college in Chicago, Ill.
I have cried a river since we left him at College.I dreaded that day like someone dreads a root canal or surgery--necessary pain.
I am not worried about him at all. He is ready. I am so excited for him! The tears are grieving tears because I know that today was the last day of his childhood. He will be back of course but not as a child. This is a sadness that I have yet to conquer.
So I am counting the blessings, (there are so many) and I am grasping on to the joy that my beautiful son's life is being spent for the Glory of God. That was our goal. We accomplished it.
