A Prayer for My Son

Dear Lord,

First, God, make my son a man after your own heart. With his every word and deed, let him preach the tender spirit of Christ to those around him. Let him question you and question his birth-spirituality, so that his faith may grow strong and steady on its own. Lord, when he questions it all and searches for his own answers, give me faith in him (and faith in you) that he will settle upon the answers you mean him to find.

God, let him stay a baby as long as possible. Never let me rush one second of his development, and never let him wish a moment of it away. Because life is very long, and childhood is but a magical and fleeting moment.

Let me always be able to soothe his tears as easily as I can now. Bless my memory, that I may never forget the tiniest detail of his babyhood.

When he becomes mobile, and I go to turn his pockets out to do laundry, help me not to die of panic and grossed-outness by the wealth of dirt, slime, bug and critters I will find. Allow me to see it all as treasures he has discovered while exploring his new world, and give me fortitude that I may not embarrass myself by crying when a cricket jumps out towards my face.

And when he is older and has friends in our car, remind me Lord, not to sing out loud. (Unless the song is “The Devil Went Down to Georgia”. Then all bets are off. Although with your strength, I MAY be able to leave out the instrumental sound effects. Maybe.)

May he know want, but never need. Need is a dark, empty, hungry place. Want is an inspiration to work more, try harder, be better.

God, keep him healthy. Protect him from illness and suffering. Know that his every cough and sniffle hurts my heart, and if I can bargain it with you, I will gladly take any illness of his upon myself.

Give him the courage and confidence to always stand his ground and believe in himself. Protect him from bullies, and insulate him from their inevitable taunts. And if he ever becomes a bully himself, Lord, give him someone to whup it out of him, because if they don’t – I WILL.

Allow me to never make any mistakes or missteps in my parenting. And, barring that impossibility, make my infractions minor and his forgiveness quick.

Midway through my pregnancy, I retired to bed in order to keep him safe. Now, I spend my days protecting him from harm. But I know that one day, he will walk out of my reach. Lord, keep my boy safe.  Protect him from all who wish him harm. Protect him from his peers who will prod him towards dangerous behavior. Protect him (perhaps most of all) from himself.

May he never pop his collar. May he never wear highly reflective sunglasses - or sunglasses of any type at night or inside a building. May he never wear baggy pants or ironic t-shirts. And if he does commit any of these sins (or whatever silly fashions his generation creates), Lord, help me to remember a girl in white Guess jeans, a denim jacket and penny loafers with neon socks, and to not tease him too harshly.

Help strengthen me, that I may tolerate long and late nights as well when he learns to drive as I do now in his infancy. Allow my constant presence when he returns home to be both a comfort and an annoyance that spurs him to always make curfew.

Lord, ensure that my son always treats women with the greatest of respect. Remind him that every girl is somebody’s daughter – not least of all, she is your daughter.

One day he may fall in love with one of those women. Lord, I ask that you go to the little girl that woman is today. Lay your word on her heart, that she may be a woman worthy of you and worthy of my son. Soften her heart, that she may see the world through your eyes. Make her be gentle and kind to his lovely heart. Let her love you and love him in a way that will endear my son to further his walk with you.

And when he marries this woman, help her to see him as I see him now - as he was when he was just a tiny baby in my arms. Let her know how dearly I love him, and know that he is the light of my life. And (please God) allow her to permit the love between my son and I. She should know that my tenderness and concern towards him is not a doubting of her standing as his wife, but an outflowing of love for the little boy who once needed me as he will then need her.

Then, when he shall have his firstborn, let us be close enough that he calls me in bleary tones to confide that the baby will not sleep, or is making a mess with his foods, or is wearing the entire household to exhaustion. And Lord, when those calls come, give me the strength to not giggle and bleat a cry of “REVENGE!” – or at least, not out loud.

Thank you, God, for the blessing that is my sweet boy. 

The Power of That Sunday

Crucifixion Friday

Friday passed in a rush of horror. The darkness and thorns of Gethsemane. The burn of betrayal. The blood mixed with sweat. The rake of the whip. The jeers of Golgotha. The rust of the nails. The splinters of the beam. The bitterness of the wine. The anguish of the end.

The end.

Satan’s Saturday

Surely that Saturday was the darkest day in history. Darker in the mind even than Friday. Perhaps on Friday, they waited. They had seen the dead man walk at his command. They had seen the dead girl smile at her father. Surely, he wasn’t gone. Surely, this wasn’t the end.

But by Saturday, they had to know. He was gone. Their leader was gone, their mission aborted. Satan danced, and they felt the brush of his robes as he twirled in jubilation.

I wonder how many gave up. How many saw the stone rolled, left the tomb, and went home. I wonder how many saw it as the closing of the door – rather than the tearing of the curtain.

I wonder how many gave up without even realize that Sunday was just over the horizon.

Did they hear the news later? Did they doubt like Thomas, or fall supplicant like the women at the tomb? Did they lament their shallow faith?

The blood of Friday.

The darkness of Saturday.

The power of Sunday.

Because without Sunday, the word was dead. The faith was false. But with Sunday – the world was saved.

Resurrection Sunday

Death cannot keep its prey, Jesus my Savior;

He tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord! Up from the grave He arose, 

With a mighty triumph o'er His foes;

He arose a victor from the dark domain,

And He lives forever with His saints to reign.

He arose! He arose!

HALLELUJAH! CHRIST AROSE!

New Life Celebration

Last Sunday was our church’s New Life Celebration. On this day, the parents of the congregation’s newest babies make a commitment before the church to raise our children according to God's will, and our church family pledges to support us. Our church does not perform infant baptism (believers who are able to understand and choose baptism make the choice themselves as adults), so this was a dedication ceremony.

Image courtesy of my friend Elizabeth, who thankfully took a picture of us since I failed to take a single photo of the event.

Larkin looked extra handsome, and was surrounded by both mine and Jonathan’s families. We attended a reception before the service, so Larkin was well past nap time by the point in the church service they begin the ceremony. Literally five minutes before they invited the parents to come to the front, Larkin nodded off on his Grandma Suzie’s shoulder. I hefted him over to my shoulder and the three of us headed up front.

The elders surrounded the new families, and a microphone was passed so the parents could say their names and introduce their baby. Larkin stayed soundly asleep during the first introduction, and then the microphone was passed to Jonathan. I was a little sad that he was going to sleep through the whole thing. Then Jonathan said our names, and as soon as he said, “And this is sleeping Larkin…” Larkin heard his daddy’s voice and woke straight up with a big grin. No way was this kid going to sleep through his moment in the spotlight!

After the introductions, the church elders and their wives joined the church in praying for the physical and spiritual growth and health of our children and families. It was a beautiful and touching ceremony. It was made doubly special being held in the church that helped raise me.

The sweet gifts the church gave Larkin - a tiny Bible, a very cool book that we're already enjoying, a copy of his blessing, and a letter for him to open on his baptism day.

We were given the chance to write a blessing for Larkin:

Dear Larkin,

There are a million things we wish for you, but our greatest desire is to give you roots, wings, and Jesus.

Roots to hold you to solid ground, a foundation that is unshakable. You will always have a place to call home, a family who loves you beyond measure.

Wings to go forth into the world, and the courage to follow your dreams. God has mighty plans for you, little one. Our prayer is that you always find the faith and courage to live big.

Jesus, to walk alongside you. Your family will always be close, but where we cannot go, Jesus will follow you. May you always feel His peaceful presence, and rest safe in His everlasting arms.

“I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your heart through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” Ephesians 3:16-19

You are our greatest joy.

To the moon… and back,

Mommy and Daddy

I consider it such an honor that God has blessed us with such a precious, sweet little boy, and entrusted us with the care of both his physical and spiritual well being.