Thursday, September 19, 2013

Remember who and Whose you are…




THE LULU CHRONICLES
The Forty-Year-Old with his daughter.

On Saturday I’ll experience a First. My firstborn will turn forty. The Big 4-0. And as many, many parents before me I am in shock that someone as young and vibrant as myself can be the parent of a forty-year-old child. Seriously?
I remember it well. After three days of labor, yes, count them, THREE DAYS OF LABOR, the child finally decided to make his debut. Had I been a mama hamster, I would have immediately eaten him. How dare he cause me that much trouble. But then they laid the squirmy troublemaker into my arms and I instantly life changed forever.
This kid, with his long dark eyelashes and big blue eyes, expanded my world and awoke a part of my heart that was created just for him; a part I didn’t even know was there. He kept me on my toes and balanced just on the edge from day one. What a delight!
I dedicate several of my gray hairs to him. His creativity. His curiosity. His tender heart. His laughter. His sense of humor. His daring. His cult-like leadership. His protectiveness, and his joy of life have all combined and converged to mold this extraordinary young man. Yes, forty is young these days.
He married someone who gets him. He listened to my advice and chose a bride who leads him closer to God everyday. Smart boy. The fact that she loves me as well is pure icing. And together they have given this middle-age mama the most delicious grandchildren.
But the most endearing trait about this forty-year-old child of mine is his capacity to love. I saw it in him the first time I looked into those dark eyes and that little round face. His love for his beautiful wife, for me, his dad, his brothers, his sister-in-laws, his children, his friends, his students (he’s a teacher), his dog and his Creator take my breath away at times. The way he loves continues to teach me how to do it better.
Most parents are proud of their children, aren’t they? Well, count me in. All three of my sons have grown into these incredible men. But, today, I honor the forty-year-old one. I thank God for the day He placed this child in my arms and the privilege it has been to be his mom. On his first day of school and every school day after I would kiss him and say, “Remember who and Whose you are.”  He was Nathan Daniel. Son of Gary and Debbie. Brother to Matthew and Joshua… and he was God’s.
He remembered. He still remembers.
I love you, kiddo.

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