As you come to him, the living Stone--rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him--you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 1 Peter 2: 4-5

Saturday, January 24, 2009

My heart...

This afternoon, I went to take a nap, and Josh actually came downstairs to see me and tell me good-bye before he left. He looked so handsome and grown-up as he left, going out to surprise his girlfriend with a showing of Twilight at the Fox for their 3 month anniversary. After he left I cried. Not because he had upset me, or because I was worried about him, but just in awe of what God has done in his life, and what an amazing young man he has become.

I started thinking about how he was the first to permanently take captive a bit of my heart. Remembering our many days and nights when it was just the two of us...when I was a mom who could actually give undivided attention. Remembering after Sarah came how I ached to just be able to have him all to myself just for a moment. How I was terrified that his biological father would take him. And the nights that I kept it together only because he was right there by my side, keenly observing my every action, reaction, emotion. The time I have spent on my knees asking God to please see him through and bless him. And He has.

He constantly amazes me with his actions, his words, his passions. He is the Christian that I only hope to be someday and wants to spend his life as a missionary. He is honest, smart, considerate, and compassionate. He treats his girlfriend with such tenderness, respect, and love that makes me so proud of him. He is so mature and wise beyond his years, yet will still curl up by me on the couch so I can "rub his head." He is loving and protective of me, and in the few instances where his mouth acts before his brain, he is quick to apologize.

There is no reason, given the things that he has gone through in his short life, that he should be so grounded, so well adjusted, so loving. He did not have a good role model, and while I tried, I know I was not strong enough to have given him what only a father can. While I credit Daryl for shaping him since he was ten, I can only credit his Heavenly Father for giving him the wisdom, grace, comfort and strength through the years.

I know his youth is not over, and there are likely to be bumps in the road ahead, but for now, I remain forever thankful that I get to call him mine for at least a few more years.

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