Holding my 9lb, 3oz baby boy in my arms that hot August afternoon, the furthest thing from my mind was that one day I would leave him five hundred miles from home.

During the twenty-one years in between I always thought of him as mine: mine to take care of, mine to teach, mine to love, mine to discipline, mine, mine, mine. He was a wonderful gift from God, who had blessed me with the job of being Travis’ mom.

Travis was the sweetest baby and child, too good to be true. Many referred to him as “smiley” because he always had a smile on his face. He was such a well-behaved child it was almost concerning. The first and only time he got in trouble at school, flicking a Cheetos puff across the room that he found on the floor during nap time, I actually got excited.  “He’s normal!!”

My Concerns

However, Travis did have a concern. It was the very same one I grew up with, extreme shyness, only his was worse than mine. As a young child, he would not play on a playground if other children were there. Many teachers expressed their concern that he “never talked”, but others rejoiced that they had one quiet child in the classroom. Watching him grow, it often broke my heart. I saw a lot of me in him. The low self-esteem, the uncomfortableness in a room full of people, even close family. I encouraged him and even tried herb supplements. Although he was an A/B student, I asked he be  retained in fifth grade in hopes that it was partially maturity. This would give him an extra year before middle school. I was wrong.

Don’t get me wrong Travis had friends and was well liked. He was voted “friendliest in fifth grade” by his peers. But they saw the smiling shell of Travis. At home, we were privileged to see the inside. Deep inside was a wonderful, hilarious, interesting personality that few were allowed to see. As was the case with me, he was often teased for his extreme quietness. But unlike me, it never seemed to bother him, and he always seemed content. He played basketball through middle and high school and graduated with honors.

Of my three children, Travis was always the one I worried about most. Being very similar in personality, I knew the “grownup” world can be challenging.  It’s easy to be taken advantage of and sometimes difficult to fit in. To this day, people continue to comment on my quiet personality.

Time for College

Travis attended community college for two years. During this time, he spent more time in his room away from us. I began sensing discontentment. He seemed almost lost with no direction, frustrated, and apathetic. About half-way into the second year, all that began to change. I could see the changes but was unaware of what was to come.

One day out of the blue, he announced, “I want to be a youth minister, and I want to go to Appalachian Bible College…in West Virginia.” Now you would think my mind would begin racing with thoughts like, you can’t do this, you don’t talk, you never even spend the night away from home, and you are going to go 500 miles away not knowing anyone? But my reply was, “Let’s get on it.” Having comparable personalities, I knew a move this bold meant it wasn’t a quick decision, and he was ready. We had three weeks before classes were to start to apply, get accepted, and take care of financial aid.

I hate to say, but he did hear a lot of negative comments like “you can’t be a minister, you don’t talk.” from some people. Several tried to detour him. But surprisingly, he stood strong and was determined to go. I would be lying if I said I had no worries. Of course, I did, I’m his mom. But during those three weeks, I kept telling myself, “God’s got this. If this is God’s plan, it will all work out.” Travis received his official acceptance letter the day before new students were to move in.

My Hands

Saturday morning Travis walked on campus with a confidence and determination he has never displayed. He had no trouble talking to anyone. He had made the right decision. I was full of joy, but unknown to him, my heart was breaking. I worried, he’s gonna have to wash his own clothes, he has no car here, will he ask for help when he needs it, and I won’t be here if he gets sick. 

After a kiss on the cheek, we embraced in a closing hug. I felt an extra strong hold from his arms. The Bible says to cast your worries on the Lord. As I watched him walk away, I silently prayed, “Lord, he’s in your hands now.”  As soon as I whispered it, I shook my head, knowing the Good Lord was laughing, for I believe He has a great sense of humor. His reply to me, “He’s always been in MY hands, NOT yours.”

That Monday in 1995 when I held that black-headed big bundle of joy, God was already seeing this day. It didn’t matter that Travis was painfully shy and withdrawn; God knew he would one day be a servant for him and when the time was right, he would take care of it…after all he is in His hands.