I'll be the first to admit that my sense of humour is a bit quirky...especially when it come to words. The phrase "family planning" is one that seems logical to others, but makes me want to break into (hysterical) laughter. In my life it's been a bit of an oxymoron.
Once upon a time seven specialists predicted that my chances of ever bearing children were
slim-to-none. When that precious first baby arrived I was "lucky"...better adopt if I'd like another. Just when I despaired of ever having a second, I began to lose my breakfast...lunch...and supper. After that second precious one arrived, I decided that it was unlikely I could make it through another pregnancy and take care of the two I had. Sort of a count-my-blessings-and-cut-my-losses philosophy. For the first time in our married lives we tried to figure out how not to have children. Let's just say that before my second was through her colicky stage, I started losing my breakfast...lunch...and supper...again.
From the first moments of realization my thought processes leapt from "this isn't possible" to "it's a boy." I can't explain how I knew, I just did. Mostly I went around saying, "I don't know this happened!" (My husband kindly but firmly pointed out that I sounded like an idiot and needed to stop saying that.)
Nine years ago today I held my son for the first time. His birth was miraculous. He was a big baby, bigger than my body could deliver without some trauma to both of us. In the same way my heart is labouring to birth a man of character--not without some trauma. To both of us. It often feels like a job that's too big for me. How is a mother to know how to properly nurture the heart of man who was born to conquer? I make mistakes and seek grace. I constantly turn to the Creator who has written the manual and He gives wisdom so we both grow.
Some days this man-child makes me scratch my head in confusion. Many days I hold my breath as he insists on risking a higher, longer, bigger...jump, flip, turn.
Every day he makes me laugh with a laughter that I feel from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. The grey hairs are a small price to pay, the laugh lines definitely worth it, the fierce hugs keep me going.
I honestly don't know if I'll ever succeed in persuading him to contain rude noises at inappropriate times, but I think together we've figured out how to keep a heart connection. I'm determined to continue modelling grace--given and received. I'll keep leading him to the One who sustains me. Trusting that will be enough to help him climb the mountains yet to be discovered.
Love you, Buddy.
And I will pour out my Spirit on your descendants,
and my blessing on your children.
They will thrive like watered grass, like willows on a riverbank.
Isaiah 44:3b-4
