Four

Can I be honest? I can’t handle today. My baby, my firstborn, my precious boy – he’s four. Four years old. And I realize that he will have other older, bigger-number birthdays, but I feel like this is the first one taking him out of those crazy newborn-baby-toddler years. He’s turning into a little man with a distinct personality, genuine likes and dislikes, and tons of strength in a lot of areas.

I am so proud of him, and yet my heart is breaking a little bit. I suppose this is how motherhood is – a series of very high highs, some low lows, and a lot of figuring out how to let go with grace and wisdom. I’m just not sure I can handle it.

W, every day I look at you and I can’t believe you’re mine. I am honored to have been entrusted with your life. I’m honored to have been entrusted with your heart. I’m honored to have been entrusted to care for you, to teach you, to wipe your tears, to rejoice with you, to make you a disciple of Jesus. Son, you are beautiful and strong, so brave, and one of my favorite people on the planet. I sincerely love being around you! Happy fourth birthday sweet boy – I hope we get to celebrate many many more together!