Memories of the little boy
That boy, now a young man
He’s not 2 anymore; he’s 18 and a senior in high school. He has his own friends, his own job and his own interests. He’s a man; an incredible, wonderful and talented young man and I feel so blessed to call him my son. This is the season in my life where I begin to grieve the loss of the boy and transition into the new phase of motherhood. I must accept that our relationship is different going forward.
In many ways, this reminds me of God’s role in my life. Like a good father would, He watches me. He doesn’t necessarily tell me what to do, but has provided vague guidelines. I must go out into the world and find the boundaries myself. And when I’ve strayed down a road that isn’t good for me, He is always there for me when I decide to come running back into his waiting arms. He doesn’t chastise me, He doesn’t shame me, He just loves me.
Seeing my son at this point in his life, I think I understand how God could love us so unconditionally. I will always love the boy that I carried inside of me, the one I laughed and played with, the one who brought me so much joy singing and playing his guitar. I look at him much like God looks at us. Know he will make mistakes and do things I don’t agree with. Also knowing his life won’t go exactly like I would map it, but I will love him and accept him no matter what, just because he is my son.
I pray that we all get to experience God’s unconditional love this fully; both on earth and in heaven.