Don't Blink

As I walked out of the orthodontist's office with Adam, now 7, I offered him my hand. He smiled up at me and willfully put his hand in mine, and it felt warm and familiar, fitting like the last piece of a hard puzzle.  I have held his hand a million times over the last seven years, but today it felt particularly good. We looked at each other and smiled. He skipped a little. At what point does it not begin to be OK to hold hands with your mom and skip? I hope never.

There was a time when I had to force him to hold my hand when it was a lesson in obedience or a practical act of safety. Today we held hands because we love each other. Today felt like the day you let your dog off the leash, and he stays by your side because he knows to and wants to. I relish the way our hands fit together like our hearts, knowing there will be a day when he won't want to hold my hand anymore.  It will come too soon.

This morning as I fixed his hair in the mirror, I noticed that the top of his head has moved from chest level to right under my chin!!!  How is this possible???  My firstborn son, with his huge puppy feet, loves basketball and me. What more could a girl ask for?  My son, who the doctors said was an impossible idea, who we fought for, who then gave us hell for the first five years, my son who has a heart and a will the size of Texas and wears me out daily.

It felt as if seven years of heart-wrenching emotions, prayer, and hard work on both our parts came together at that moment in our hands. Seven more years, and he will be 14 and taller than me, as tall as his daddy? Taller?  Still loves basketball and his mom but perhaps not wanting to hold my hand and skip.  So I relish the moment. My heart is bursting, and I feel the grace and goodness of God.

Galatians 6:9  

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time, we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.