I love this child with a ferocity that cannot be strung into words. He is smart, funny, kind, passionate, loving, silly, outgoing and…tall.
Lord Almighty, this kid is tall.
I can’t believe I have a nine-year-old. I learn something new every single day parenting this child. He shocks me with his constant ability to love others deeply and fiercely. He is going to change the world, this one – perhaps for the masses, perhaps for just a few, but I have no doubt he’s going to make an impact wherever he goes.
As we drove home last night, the golden glow of headlights zipping past us, we just talked. The other two were asleep and there was no sound beyond the gentle hum of wheels on the highway.
“What should I be when I grow up?” he asked. “Not what you think I could be, but what do you want me to be when I grow up?”
The questions are getting harder to answer…
“I won’t tell you what you should be,” I answered. “There are just too many possibilities.” I went on to list the many things I think he’d be great at: Missions, Pastoring, Business, News reporting, Sports, Science – really, at nine? The sky is the limit.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “I just want to glorify God.”
Even as I type this, the tears prick the corners of my eyes. Nine years ago, I held him in my arms for the first time and I had no clue what I was doing. I just knew, as I looked in his tiny eyes, that I was meant to be his Mom. I didn’t know how hard it would be to be his Mom. I didn’t know the tears I would shed and the inners corners of my own sin and selfishness that would be laid bare before me in his reflection. I didn’t know what this would be like.
I just knew that this kid was something special and he was meant just for me.
God, I’m grateful for that gift.