He comes around the corner, and I catch my breath. It seems with the change of seasons he has changed. Grew maybe. Holds himself a little more like a man than a boy.
I could cry.
His shoes are bigger than mine. I can borrow his sweatshirts. It really is going quickly.
I’ve cringed when people would tell me, “Enjoy it. It goes by fast.” Sometimes I’ve wanted to respond, “Good. I’m tired. I’ve been changing diapers for over 10 years. Let it go on by…quickly please.”
But not today. Not when I have a moment to stop and notice. To look at him. To realize my firstborn has less time left in this home than he’s spent in it thus far.
Is he ready to be sent out? Is he sharp like an arrow? Have we done enough? Taught enough? Prayed enough?
I’m sweating now.
Stop! God loves him more than me. He has a plan for his life. A good plan. I’m sure he’ll struggle. Didn’t I? But I’m also confident God is faithful. To this Mama. To the maturing boy in our home.
“God, help me not to worry. Or be fearful. But more than anything, help me not to miss it! Not to miss one more moment of tangibly watching grace. Of seeing You working and shaping him into who You’ve created him to be.”
“O Lord, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am! Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath! Selah. Surely a man goes about as a shadow! Surely for nothing they are in turmoil; man heaps up wealth and does not know who will gather!” (Psalm 39:4-6)