He turned seven early last month. I get why mothers cry about watching their kids grow up. My heart is full of joy and sweet memories of my days thus far with my oldest child but I'm also overwhelmed with a tinge of sorrow that he won't be small forever. Sure, there's great satisfaction and reward in watching the Lord mold and soften his heart, shape his character, and build his confidence - but my mind still can't wrap around the fact that he used to be this size....
...and he's now this size...
Yesterday, I found myself in a moment of disappointment in my mothering (that happens alot). I wasn't being patient with my daughter and soon realized that I was overlooking the real reason why she was choosing the route she did (which was the wrong route in my mind). After walking away from her, I mumbled under my breath, "I'm an awful mother....just the worst there is". I didn't know it but Andrew was within earshot and heard every word I mumbled. He immediately lunged and embraced me from behind and sobbed, "You are the best mama in the world. I know you love us. You said you would die for us!" I picked up his entire lanky body and buried my head in his neck and apologized to him, affirmed my love for him and his siblings, and confessed my sins of pride, doubt, and unbelief....all while leaving our snot and tears on each other. It was a sweet moment and God used it for his glory.
I'm so proud of you, Andrew. Today was your last day of first grade and you were disappointed that you have to take 10 weeks off from school. When I told you that our summer was gonna be filled with fun activities and time to let your brain rest, you responded, "I think I can do those things at school, Mama".
You sure could, dude, but I want you all to myself for just little bit longer.