A few days ago, I went to a movie with an acquaintance and afterward, we decided mutually that we should get to know each other better, which, considering my lack of an active social circle, can't possibly be a bad thing. (Shut up, anxiety. I'm trying to knock those walls down.)
We were exchanging questions and he said, "You'll have to tell me about [your son] sometime." A few moments later he added, "...and your girls. They clearly have your heart."
That first sentence, blinking bright against the black on my iPhone struck me so profoundly. It's a simple request. "Tell me about your son." The innocuous reason he asked that question was simply because he knows that my son is important to me and wants to know more about the people I care about. However, when I read it, it struck me how I would seriously answer what my children truly mean to me and how I would honestly describe them. Not in the funny things they do, or the sweet things they say, but in the intimate way that they changed my life and remain always a part of me, no matter where they are or what they are doing.
So let me tell you about my son.
My son was the trickle of sunshine into a cold, dark hopeless place.
My son is proof of the boundless limits of God's overwhelming grace.
My son saved my life then, and fulfills it now.
My son is my teacher, my dearest love, and my most bittersweet remembrance.
My son was the rainbow after the storm and the healing after the wound.
My son helped me realize how strong I could be, and how weak.
My son humbled me and gave my life meaning and purpose when I was being told that my life was purposeless and meaningless.
My son is contemplation, curved smiles and furrowed brows.
He is the greatest treasure of my heart.
My oldest daughter is kindness personified.
She is care and compassion.
She is brave and takes on much more than any 6 year old should.
She wants to make everyone smile.
She is a bright, constant star in a tumultuous sky.
She is the calming of the ocean and the gentle breeze in a summer swelter.
She is a nurturer and a truth teller.
She is beautiful.
Her first breath was my first true joy.
She was and remains my favorite birthday present.
My middle daughter is a firecracker in the dead of winter.
She is joy and vivacity in a flash of motion.
She is the wild rush of a stream and the crack of thunder in the sky
She is strong willed and head strong.
She is sweet as honey and tough as nails
She is persistence and freedom and mischievousness
She is that which comes around after the go around I gave my parents growing up
She is my tester, my teaser, and her own girl in every way
Her laughter could melt ice and her will could bend water.
She is the spark of life that endears and endures.
When I look at them, think of them, hear them; when I smell their wet puppy hair, or feel their whole bodied hugs; when they laugh, run, play, snuggle, chirp at each other; when they call out for me or each other and run full speed toward the safety of each other's arms, and of my arms - it is then that I am whole, then that I am overcome with what love truly is.
Let me tell you about my kids.
They are everything.
They are proof that God exists.
We were exchanging questions and he said, "You'll have to tell me about [your son] sometime." A few moments later he added, "...and your girls. They clearly have your heart."
That first sentence, blinking bright against the black on my iPhone struck me so profoundly. It's a simple request. "Tell me about your son." The innocuous reason he asked that question was simply because he knows that my son is important to me and wants to know more about the people I care about. However, when I read it, it struck me how I would seriously answer what my children truly mean to me and how I would honestly describe them. Not in the funny things they do, or the sweet things they say, but in the intimate way that they changed my life and remain always a part of me, no matter where they are or what they are doing.
So let me tell you about my son.
My son was the trickle of sunshine into a cold, dark hopeless place.
My son is proof of the boundless limits of God's overwhelming grace.
My son saved my life then, and fulfills it now.
My son is my teacher, my dearest love, and my most bittersweet remembrance.
My son was the rainbow after the storm and the healing after the wound.
My son helped me realize how strong I could be, and how weak.
My son humbled me and gave my life meaning and purpose when I was being told that my life was purposeless and meaningless.
My son is contemplation, curved smiles and furrowed brows.
He is the greatest treasure of my heart.
My oldest daughter is kindness personified.
She is care and compassion.
She is brave and takes on much more than any 6 year old should.
She wants to make everyone smile.
She is a bright, constant star in a tumultuous sky.
She is the calming of the ocean and the gentle breeze in a summer swelter.
She is a nurturer and a truth teller.
She is beautiful.
Her first breath was my first true joy.
She was and remains my favorite birthday present.
My middle daughter is a firecracker in the dead of winter.
She is joy and vivacity in a flash of motion.
She is the wild rush of a stream and the crack of thunder in the sky
She is strong willed and head strong.
She is sweet as honey and tough as nails
She is persistence and freedom and mischievousness
She is that which comes around after the go around I gave my parents growing up
She is my tester, my teaser, and her own girl in every way
Her laughter could melt ice and her will could bend water.
She is the spark of life that endears and endures.
When I look at them, think of them, hear them; when I smell their wet puppy hair, or feel their whole bodied hugs; when they laugh, run, play, snuggle, chirp at each other; when they call out for me or each other and run full speed toward the safety of each other's arms, and of my arms - it is then that I am whole, then that I am overcome with what love truly is.
Let me tell you about my kids.
They are everything.
They are proof that God exists.
Beautiful
ReplyDeleteBeautiful
ReplyDelete