you were humming quietly while the voice on the other end sounded measured and calm.
she told me of a family member who had passed away. a family member who i had last talked with when you were small and fit so neatly in the crook of my arm...
we hung up and i sat there quietly, looking at you rubbing that lemon half on the top of your head...
i don't know what your life will hold.
and it's your birthday and i want to remember those first moments,
those exhausted moments,
the ones that blurred my vision and filled my heart up so full.
you have to know,
there. is. more.
our life here is nothing more than a wisp of a moment.
and you are four and your only thought right now is probably one that involves cars and trucks and how to add to your growing collection,
but sweet son, it will all go so fast.
and as it whirls by, it will be easy to forget how quickly it spins. you could miss that life really is more than getting that one more thing.
it's taken me almost 34 years to know that, and still, i sit here with my almost-birthday latte on the table top beside me...
i am the first to admit i don't live this out perfectly.
i don't know how many years that God has planned out for you,
i don't know what paths your feet will find to follow,
where He will come near to meet you and reveal Himself as sure.
but the years that you have?
live them for Him.
if you are going to spend yourself on anything,
spend them on Him.
if you are going to fall down exhausted at the end of the day,
fall down because you have poured out everything to love Him.
your soul will keep on living after your body has turned to dust,
but while you are here,
while your blood is pumping and your heart is beating and your lungs fill up with air,
let the very dust that holds you together hold together a life that has eternity and Christ Jesus in focus.
i think of my grandma today on your birthday, i think of this woman who will be burying her second son in more than a decade...
i don't know, elias, which one of us will see the face of Jesus first.
i sat in front of your baby sister this morning as i spooned food into her mouth.
her eyes were so trusting and i began to think of her in her later years - how i won't be here to hold her close and whisper how loved she is...and i began to pray.
i began to pray for the hands that will soothe her, comfort her in the moments before she is no more,
and elias, i'm not trying to be morbid.
i'm not trying to focus sad on what should be a joy-filled day...
but i want more for you than a life that is only focused on now.
your soul will only grow shriveled and selfish and voracious for a never ending supply of what is never going to satisfy.
only Jesus will.
today, you are four.
i still remember your sweet scowly face all crumpled and gasping for air in those first moments of your life.
i still remember that first moment you whispered you loved me back.
moments that are forever embedded into my heart.
i am so thankful that you are my son.
you have a heart that already knows who Jesus is,
and the prayer we pray over you every day is that your heart would become one that desires Him only.
becoming a man after the heart of God, sweet son, is nothing to laugh at, but something to respect deeply.
and when that moment of decision comes, pursue Him...
we'll be cheering you on all the way.
i love you, more than words can ever say...
~ your mama