There's a particular kind of worry that shows up once your kids are grown. It's quieter than the toddler years, when the dangers were physical and close — the stairs, the road, the hot stove — and you could just put your body between the child and the harm. The worry of the grown child is slower, and there's almost nothing you can do with it. You watch them make a call you'd never make. A year goes by, then another, and the shape of a life still isn't coming into focus. There's the friend group you'd not have picked, the faith held loosely or quietly put down, the drift where you'd hoped for direction. And every instinct in you is screaming: do something. Pull it out before it takes hold. That instinct is exactly the one Jesus warns us about in this Sunday's Gospel. The field the enemy sowed The parable's short. A man sows good seed in his field. While everyone's asleep, an enemy comes and sows weeds through the wheat, then disappears. ...