Here we are, Little Man. We did it. We made it all this way.
Three years ago, kindergarten represented something so painful to me. I had to fix you beforehand. I had to get you ready. You had to be alright.
Now here we are, standing on the threshold of your future, and as I look at you, sweet boy, I don't want you to change. It's you that I love. It's not some other Isaac that I want to succeed. It's you. You are the one I want to see thriving. I want you to have those victories, not some other "normal" kid I conjured up in my imagination of supposed-to-be's and should-have's.
I would miss you, little one, if you were different. I would mourn the loss of you. I might sometimes grieve over the life I thought we would all have, the struggles, frustrations, and obstacles we face, but son, I've never stopped loving you. I love you more than I did yesterday, and I am so proud of how far you've come and how deeply you love.
When it feels like the rest of your peers are flying past you on the interstate of life, remember it's the country roads that have the best scenery and the best people to meet and make relationships with. It's those slow paths where God has time to plant seeds of purpose in the fields of our hearts. It's those paths where we can actually watch the sunrise and sunset day in and day out, truly witnessing God's work in action.
The Bible says that God will finish the good works that he has begun within us (Phil 1:6), and son, you are proof of that. He's still working on you. Goodness knows, He's still working on me!
It's like the baby bird you caught one day this summer.
"Please put that down, son. Its mama won't love it anymore if you touch it."
I can remember saying those words to you, and only until later that evening did I realize what the Lord was telling me.
After some digging, I discovered that sometimes mama birds push their babies out of the nest on purpose. They're not abandoning them; they're teaching them how to fly.
The Lord hasn't abandoned us, son, and the Lord's touch on your life doesn't mean he doesn't love us.
Psalms 34:19 says, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the Lord delivereth him out of them all."
The Lord might be leading us out of our realm of reasoning, our comfort zones, our little boxes, but He will always pick us up and catch us when we fall. He hasn't forgotten us.
He might be simply teaching us how to fly.
I love you,
Mama
Now here we are, standing on the threshold of your future, and as I look at you, sweet boy, I don't want you to change. It's you that I love. It's not some other Isaac that I want to succeed. It's you. You are the one I want to see thriving. I want you to have those victories, not some other "normal" kid I conjured up in my imagination of supposed-to-be's and should-have's.
I would miss you, little one, if you were different. I would mourn the loss of you. I might sometimes grieve over the life I thought we would all have, the struggles, frustrations, and obstacles we face, but son, I've never stopped loving you. I love you more than I did yesterday, and I am so proud of how far you've come and how deeply you love.
When it feels like the rest of your peers are flying past you on the interstate of life, remember it's the country roads that have the best scenery and the best people to meet and make relationships with. It's those slow paths where God has time to plant seeds of purpose in the fields of our hearts. It's those paths where we can actually watch the sunrise and sunset day in and day out, truly witnessing God's work in action.
The Bible says that God will finish the good works that he has begun within us (Phil 1:6), and son, you are proof of that. He's still working on you. Goodness knows, He's still working on me!
It's like the baby bird you caught one day this summer.
"Please put that down, son. Its mama won't love it anymore if you touch it."
I can remember saying those words to you, and only until later that evening did I realize what the Lord was telling me.
After some digging, I discovered that sometimes mama birds push their babies out of the nest on purpose. They're not abandoning them; they're teaching them how to fly.
The Lord hasn't abandoned us, son, and the Lord's touch on your life doesn't mean he doesn't love us.
Psalms 34:19 says, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the Lord delivereth him out of them all."
The Lord might be leading us out of our realm of reasoning, our comfort zones, our little boxes, but He will always pick us up and catch us when we fall. He hasn't forgotten us.
He might be simply teaching us how to fly.
I love you,
Mama
