Israel said to Joseph, "Now let me die since I have seen your face and know that you are still alive.”  
Genesis 46:30

Twenty-two years had passed since Jacob held Joseph’s torn and bloodied robe in his hands. He had assumed that a wild animal, a lion perhaps, had ambushed and killed his son. It didn’t occur to him that Joseph’s very own brothers had sold him into slavery.
 
I have no way of knowing, of course, but I wonder if Jacob had truly given up all hope during the intervening years. He was a man of faith after all, and over his long life had seen God move in many ways. He was no stranger to God’s voice and had experienced prophetic dreams, such as the episode with "Jacob’s ladder." No. I kind of imagine old Jacob thinking, “Show me the body. In the absence of a physical body, I will hold out faith that Joseph may yet be alive.” Plus, he was used to waiting. He had waited fourteen years to marry the woman he loved—Joseph’s mother, Rachel.
 
His determination showed up in other ways as well. Take, for instance, the mysterious wrestling match with the Angel of God by the Jabbok River. The Bible tells us in Genesis 32:25 that when the angel saw that he could not so easily overpower Jacob, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip, wrenching it out of place. One would think the angel might have applied this “touch” at the front end of the wrestling match, but for some reason he waited until the end. Perhaps he wanted to see how much fight Jacob had in him. To Jacob’s credit, he had a lot! But for the rest of his life, he walked with a limp, a constant reminder of who was the real boss.

Twenty-two years ago, I lost my son, Daniel, to mental illness. For many months, it seemed all I could do was stare in disbelief at his tattered robe of many colors. What had become of the son of my youth, the first sign of my strength? On his eighteenth birthday, he was involuntarily committed to the state mental hospital in Williamsburg, Virginia. After several years of treatment there, I was told that he would never leave… that his case was too severe. As many of you know, he did leave for a while when I became his legal guardian and took him with me to live in Mexico. There, he stayed at home for a year before having a relapse that led to another hospitalization, this time in Minnesota. Over these last twelve years, he has been a patient at the Minnesota Security Hospital in St. Peter. Throughout this time, we have made legal appeals to the State Supreme Court for his discharge to a less restrictive setting, but without success.

For years, I have not known if I would ever see my son again outside a psychiatric hospital. Six years ago, I resolved to celebrate life, Daniel’s life. To celebrate hope and possibility. To introduce my son to the world. That is how the movie, Let Me Have My Son, began.

Fast forward to April 2023. Just as the movie was being finished, we received official word that Daniel had been granted a provisional discharge from the hospital! Bureaucratic delays continue, and the discharge has not taken place yet, but we are likely just weeks away from Daniel moving into a group home much closer to where I live. His entire life is about to change.  

Let me have my son! I have cried these many years. Damaged, diminished, it doesn’t matter. He is my child. Sometimes, people commend me for my perseverance. I don’t know. It does sometimes feel as though I have wrestled with an angel and managed to hold on longer than  expected. And now, dawn breaks. The angel “touches” me on the thigh, dislocating my hip, and for the rest of my days, I walk with a limp. But that is okay. Daniel and I can limp together.

Now that Let Me Have My Son is finished and in distribution, what comes next? I’m not entirely sure, but I believe God has more films for me to make before he calls me home. Let me re-phrase that. I believe God has promised I will make more films! “I will make you a light to the Gentiles,” is one of several verses in Isaiah that God spoke to my heart many years ago when I sensed him calling me to launch Messenger Films. Another promise he gave me from Isaiah is this: “Your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday” which has always struck me as a metaphor for what happens in a movie theatre when light passes through the lens of a projector and images come to life on the big screen.

Except…

The phone isn’t ringing much these days. Investors and patrons aren’t lining up to finance my next film. So, why do I keep going? The answer is as simple as can be. I’m still alive and in reasonably good health! God has called me to a task. He promised years ago to make me a light to the Gentiles. He told me in 1 Chronicles 16:24 to “declare his glory among the nations; his marvelous deeds among all peoples.” What else can I do but stay the course? I may walk with a llimp… I may have days in which I feel everything is against me… but I’ll look to my spiritual father, Jacob. His entire life, it seems, was marked by him not letting go—even from birth when he clutched at his brother’s heel. He kept the faith through the ups and downs of life and in the fullness of time, his patience was rewarded.

May I share these words I prayed a few days ago? It was toward the end of the day and I was out for my walk. I looked up at the beautiful evening sky and prayed: “God, please take what is left of my life and use it for your glory.”

Maybe you’d like to pray something similar as you consider where you are in your own journey through life. I encourage you to keep the faith, dear friends. We shall all reap in due season if we faint not (Galatians 6:9).