Letters to our Children | February, 2014

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Each month this year I am participating in a project with a group of exceptionally talented photographers as we express our mom-hearts in letters to our children. At the end of this post, be sure to click on the link to view the next photographer in this circle.

My Noah,

I’m so happy I’m taking part in this project. Out of the two of you boys, you are the one who will cherish this one day. It’s just your heart, and so here goes our first letter…

You are who made me, “Mommy.” It was your mouth that first spoke those words, with giant fathomless eyes and a cheeky dimpled smile. It was your sweet voice that first melted my heart in a way that is special to you, to us, and in a way that it’s been melted and broken and built and soared a thousand times since as you’ve called me, “Mommy.” I know one day you’ll call me something super grown-up, like Mom, but for now… Mommy is just fine.

The day you were born was the first of many hard days for me and you… and it was the first of joyful days so big that I didn’t think my heart would survive. It was a surprise. You were so early by my time-table, but so perfectly prompt and timely by the Lord’s. He determines, in His infinite wisdom and goodness and love, when it’s best for us to take our first breath and when we will take our last. He wrote all our days before He even spoke the world into existence. And so, you came just as He called. My heart was beating like crazy, I was crying, I was astonished, I was overwhelmed, and I was overjoyed… when I heard your first cry I began to weep tears that were so full of relief and joy and adoration and thankfulness to the Giver of Life and all things good! God blessed us that day! I love surprises, you know.

You struggled so much. We’ve talked about it because you love hearing the story…. “Tell me all about it, Mommy. I wanna know.” I love that. It’s when I introduced you to your song, “The Color Green,” by Rich Mullins. I sang it to you every single day in the hospital. The nurses, poor things, had to listen to my croaky voice. But I didn’t care. I wanted you to know, from even that time, that God Almighty made you perfectly and that you are His incredible creation and your whole life is a testimony to His greatness. And you do… you know this all the way down to the very bottom depths of your heart and you are so excited that He made you special, that He made you His.

We continued to struggle. Once you came home, you stayed home… for months. I did all I knew to do to pour out my life for yours. Things came harder for you… everything, except talking. And you still won’t stop talking. I know I tell you that you talk too much… well, everybody has weaknesses (ha!)… but really I love to hear what you have to say – your imagination and your thoughtfulness and your absolute, all-out, unhindered, unashamed, full-on delight in life! You laugh like nobody else I know! You don’t just laugh with your eyes or your mouth… your whole body and soul laughs with you. It’s fullness of joy and it’s indescribably beautiful. God gave you this because He knew you’d need to have great belly-laughs to balance out the struggles – to stand, to walk, to run, to play, to do school. And so you don’t just endure your therapies. You LOVED your dinosaur braces that helped you stand, and you found joy in wearing them (though I’m thankful now that you don’t have to wear them anymore!). You LOVED your special shoes because they made you strong and fast. You LOVE riding horses because, well, you’re a cowboy at heart. And you LOVE your Ms. Sarah’s because they help you grow strong and learn things and conquer new worlds. And they love you so! Yes, we continue to struggle together to conquer new things, but God has sent His people along the way to come alongside us and hold us up and love us through it. Like your Ms. Sarah’s, and our church family, and our family-family. We are so blessed, sweet boy!

Every mom is proud of her child when they do something new or work hard and achieve a goal. In that sense, we’re just like every mom and child. But not every mom has worked so hard with her baby boy to do the very simplest of things, and so not every mom knows what it’s like to cry like a baby and call EVERYONE she knows because her 26 month old has pulled himself up in his crib. And not every mom knows what it’s like to try to hold back tears so she doesn’t look like a freak when her son runs a mile… and then when he runs his first 5k (and without walking!!! I know I told you not to brag about that and have a proud heart, but I’m bragging just a little bit for you). Every time I see you run, my heart is full, my cup runneth over with God’s mercy. So I’m super privileged to be your Mommy. And I’m so, so grateful to the Lord for giving me this incomprehensible gift, to walk with you and grow with you.

But there’s so much more to you than your struggle for life and strength, and there’s so much more than your tenacity and happiness… there is your heart. How you are the most precious big brother to our Silas. How you have an insatiable hunger for knowledge and show such tender care for animals. How your heart of gold lights up our home and our hearts. How your love for Jesus is pure and deep and sincere and so incredibly lovely. How you are instantly broken hearted over sin and you so much want to please the Lord… but all those things are far too big to include here. We’ll save them for other letters. For today, I want these photos below to show you at play… Because we’ve worked so hard for this and you are so beautiful in motion.

Love you,

Mommy