It tells us
we have reached the point
where we can no longer continue without change,
without a new approach,
a new learning.
We have reached the limit of
our current ability.
It gives us a measure
of where we are today, and
how far we’ve come.
It is a limit without limiting,
a boundary without bounding.
To the extent we can see beyond our point of failure,
it shows us what we can be,
what we might be,
if we commit ourselves to
by doing better,
because we know better is out there
calling to us.
It doesn’t taunt or tease.
It bows our head in defeat
we stand on
is the starting line.
“… the mother of Zebedee’s sons came to Jesus with her sons and, kneeling down, asked a favor of him. “What is it you want?” (Jesus) asked. She said, “Grant that one of these two sons of mine may sit at your right and the other at your left in your kingdom.” (Matthew 20:20-21)
Oh my goodness, we’ve been helicopter parenting for 2000 years!
This mother is interceding herself between her sons and the Lord Himself in order to be sure they get the best seats at the table.
After it didn’t work out with Dad and the family fishing business (They climbed out of the boat to follow the wandering man from Galilee.) Mom, now that Dad is probably no longer talking to the boys, rushes in just to be sure they’ll be all right.
Of course she does, because that’s what we do. We raise them and teach them and then, when they go their own way, we keep an eye on them just in case they need rescue. Our urge to save our kids is nearly insurmountable.
But then reality swoops in to save us from ourselves…
“You don’t know what you are asking,” Jesus said to them. “Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?”
“We can,” they answered.
We don’t hear from Mom after that. I’m thinking her helicopter came in for a crash landing.