Some of you may not be my friend after I say this, but I’ve never been a fan of cheerleaders. It’s not the specific PEOPLE that I’m not a fan of, but rather the fact that I grew up playing volleyball and basketball and I happen to be kind of petty at times. Trust me, it’s true. I hope you guys still love me. I promise I’m not that silly anymore!
Here’s the thing that I’ve found lately though: I am a huge cheerleader for my son. Every little thing he does, every milestone that races by, I’m right there by his side, clapping and pumping my arms in the air and smiling the biggest smile I can. I am so proud of him, so happy to be his mother, so ecstatic that I get to be here to see it all. Weston’s presence in our lives is nothing but 100% blessing, and I can’t help but want to scream from the rooftops how amazing he is.
I’ve found that being a cheerleader for my little boy has made me realize just how lovingly our God cheers for us. Y’all, he is ON OUR SIDE. He wants us to be everything we can be, everything he created us to be. When we hit those milestones he’s beaming with total pride, joyful and loving. He’s lifting us over his head, celebrating with us. I can’t believe that it took me this long to see it, but I am so thankful for that vision. For the vision of a father who loves us with complete and total abandon. And even when we miss the mark, he is there cheering us on. Holding us closer to him. Carrying us to the finish line.
Turns out that being a cheerleader is kind of awesome, especially when it’s for someone you love 😉