Holds my hand when he gets scared. Isn’t that incredible? Four years ago he did not exist, except in the knowledge of our Creator.
His passions include power drills, the woods, his little brother and sister, and excavators. He wants to be just like his dad, who can’t always say the same.
The look in his eyes when he watches his dad work is so sweet, so fascinated, focused, adoring. He doesn’t yet know how God blessed him with the earthly dad he has. He doesn’t know a lot of things though, that’s the thing about being just three.
He can’t tie his shoes or read a book quite yet. But he lets the dog out in the morning all by himself. He says sorry to his sister every single time his mom is actually trying to tell his sister to apologize to him she likes to bite). He sleeps in his big boy bed and uses the potty (almost) all by himself. He swings his brother and consoles him with a binkie when he cries. Sometimes he feels so guilty, he admits to ripping a page out of his book before his mom even realizes he’s done it. He is fearless and funny and wonderful.
We try to model Christ as his parents. We fail quite often. But you can’t stop trying ‘till you’re dead, so hopefully each day we grow a little closer to who we’re supposed to be (detours aside).
The look of love in his little eyes spurs me on. To be better, to do better, to learn. Because I’ve only got one shot at this.
I hope I make it count.
