I anxiously waited for his arrival, fearful he might not really come to be.
He arrived late, though healthy and perfect-seeming in every way.
The embrace he gives me--arms strong around my neck--expresses pure love to me.
And though parenting is incredibly difficult and isn't often fun in the *whirl and twirl* of our days, it's the most amazing experience.
His heart is Kind. Gentle. Thoughtful. Attentive. Helpful.
This Boy-Man teaches me about acceptance and forgiveness.
I still fear for him.
That he will experience pain and disappointment.
That our togetherness will be abbreviated.
And that he will have wounds that are deeper than my love can heal.
But still, I trust in His purposes. And His story for this child's life.
And for the people who will be influenced by his being here among us.
I learn more about God every moment of being a mother.
And today, as I celebrate his eight years of life, I give thanks for my own.