The True Vine

She was livid. From the moment that she'd noticed Matthew's absence, her ears turned red from an odd heat as she searched her bag for her phone. She paced in and out of each room in the house, then caught sight of a piece of paper placed on her neat bed.

Christen walked toward her bed and felt her heart pounding. She picked it and recognised Matthew's handwriting. Her phone screen displayed her ontacts and she'd selected his number to dial.

She sat on her bed, almost forgetting the stone beneath her bed that kept it leveled. She'd been meaning to buy a new bed for the past two months, but other expenses brought about by Matthew had suspended many of her financial plans.

She'd been reading what was on the piece of paper for about five minutes and still not registering the message. On the tenth try to decipher it, she understood he'd left the house against her wishes and, apparently, gone to church to help with the outreach activity that had been announced during the last service - which Matthew did not attend.

Christen didn't know whether to call her pastor and confirm her son’s presence or call Matthew in a rant about leaving without permission. All she knew is she was sick of his rebellious stunts, and the bit about being at church was too far-fetched for her to believe. Even though such a thing had become a daily prayer request for the single mother.

Matthew had been acting like someone else's child for over a year, after graduating high school and suddenly discovering freewill. He'd become a nightmare to Christen and simply refused to be a son.

His last stunt, that got him grounded, was an incident with his uncanny friends who thought a daylight robbery would be fun. The old man, Mr. Hunter was a well known and loved businessman who happened to be their target based on his frail physical appearance and advanced years.

Matthew was assigned to be the watchman at the door while his three friends walked in to steal goods and money from Mr. Hunter. The well thought out operation turned sour when Mr. Hunter's warning went unheard and he pulled out his shotgun, prompting all four boys to stay put while he called the authorities.

Christen wasn't as angry about the failed attempt as she was about her embarrassment when she got to the police station to bail her less than remorseful child out. He said not a word om their way home, so when he stepped out of the cab and into the house, Christen stayed behind and cried out to her only hope in prayer. She screamed and beat on her house walls for over an hour before wiping her eyes and trying to remove any evidence of crying from her face. She hadn't slept well in months and leaving work early to bail her son out from the police station was an unnecessary task.

The boy was not hearing her, and she missed him but this was not the time to play victim and beg a child for understanding. She had to stand her ground as the adult in her house. If it meant she'd live at odds with him for a while before he snapped out of this foolishness, she'd be the last one standing in this war.

The morning after that eventful day was awkwardly silent between the mother and son, until Christen towered over him as he ate breakfast and spoke.

"You're grounded. I don't care if you don't apologize for your theatrics yesterday, but you're not going outside until you start behaving like the son I raised."

Her charge left a thickness in the air that lingered.

"Mom it wasn't a big deal. Nothing happened. Also, I'm not twelve. You can't ground me", Matthew argued.

Christen tightened her fist and wanted to jump the boy violently, but she heard the rebuke, softer than a whisper.

"No. You left him to Me. Hitting him will not solve anything."

Christen's eyes filled with tears and she stormed out of the kitchen to cry freely in her small, feminine bathroom. The rosy scent of the candle she lit each morning before leaving for work was comforting in that moment. She gently dropped the toilet lid and sat on it. Lifting her head toward the ceiling, she closed her eyes and said a prayer of thanks for God’s timely rebuke and then asked for His protection and covering over the boy. She had a feeling he would purposely leave the house just to spite her reprimand but chose to trust Yahweh with that. She had a bus to catch, lest she triggered her unstable boss into a yelling frenzy over tardiness.

The note from Matthew read:

Mom, I went to church to help with the community outreach. Simon said they needed hands. I'll see you later.

Christen contemplated what to do and finally decided she'd go to the church to see for herself that Matthew lied to her on a piece of paper.

As she rushed to the door and grabbed the keys off the side table, she turned to her empty living room and whispered.

"Lord, I hope this is Your hand."

To her fortune, the last bus to her church was about to take off when she arrived at the bus stop. She boarded and intentionally sat far from all the other passengers, so she'd ponder what she'd do if she actually found him at the church doing what he said in the note.

And what to do if he wasn't there.

"I swear Matthew. If you’re lying..." she muttered under her breath.

When she dropped off outside the church entrance, she practiced slow breathing before walking into the sanctuary. She met a number of her church fellows and exchanged greetings briefly while she surveyed the room for her offspring.

There he was. Wearing an apron and packing fruits into brown paper bags, for the homeless people they'd be giving them to. She paused and watched him, interacting with his age mates who were also busy preparing for the work ahead.

She couldn't fight the joy that suddenly washed over her as she watched her boy. That's my boy, she thought. My sweet Matthew. She couldn't recall the last time she'd seen him smile or heard him laughing. She didn't see that he'd caught her watching him and was walking toward her.

"Mom. Hi. Are you here to help? We're just about to leave".

Christen dropped herself into his arms and wept.

Matthew held onto his mother and cried silently.

His mother was still crying but fighting it when she looked at him.

"I thought you weren't here. I came to check so I could scold you for lying. How come you came to church?" She asked, still sobbing.

"I have something to tell you, but we'll talk when we get home. For now, we could use your hands. We still have a bunch of food to pack and we need to leave before sunset. Pastor Wess wants us back home before 7pm", he explained.

He smiled warmly at his mother and wiped her tears away.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you yesterday, Mom. It won't happen again."

Christen nearly choked on her sobs and embraced her boy again. And right then, she heard her only hope saying...

"Nothing is too hard for Me. He was mine before he was yours."

Christen smiled and walked over to the table with food bags, alongside her son.