{The power’s been out most of today. But this post has been on my mind. I wrote it a year ago. And this boy will turn six soon and we’re planning a special coming-of-age milestone this weekend for him. You boy mamas, how do you bear it? Having arms that miss them more than they hold them these days?}
I watched you–wild and fearless–in the water and saw the boy you are becoming.
You laughed at the sprays, danced in the drops, gulped down a fire hydrant’s worth.
I saw you at five. You have journeyed miles since four. I saw you at six, seven, eight starting to care how your hair falls and what jeans you wear with what accent T-shirt.
I saw you at eleven, turning away from me, gravitating into the pull of manhood.
I saw you at sixteen. You were beautiful.
All boy and all man and all caught in the in between. And I saw how my own heart got stuck in my throat and my mama arms were no good to you anymore. I saw how she might see you one day. And I ached for how she might hurt you and how I might have to strike that fine line between meddling mother and refuge for the little boy that still hides out in your heart.
His joy is treasure to me. I stockpile it now by the pixel load.
I saw you at 18, 19, 20 stepping over the bounds of boyhood and into yourself.
I saw you choosing calling and career above and beyond what I can imagine now. I saw you beat drums and live Africa and laugh with Karabo. I saw you dig your own roots deep, deep into the loamy soil of faith, growing up and over me and mine.
I saw with wonder the who you are becoming. And right there, in the spray ground, while you were still four, not yet five, and a mama’s ocean away from 20, I saw the standing ovation. Me in the jean skirt and “I love USA” T-shirt. I stood, soaked by the water and the memories that have yet to play out and I applauded both you and your Maker.
Because how could I not see how He is finishing the very good work He has begun in you.
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Oh Lisa-Jo, this is beautiful. And it’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot myself . . . on the other side of where you are. My almost-20-year old has been careening into adulthood this summer, and it’s scary and fun and mind-boggling all at the same time. She’s been talking so much about calling and career this summer, looking fast into the future, that it seems unreal to me that in just a couple of years she will be living a life I cannot even imagine for her. Could not imagine when she was six. Oh my!
Heading off to dry my tears now!
Ugh, no kidding with that ache – you’ve got me wiping tears at my desk! But the joy of the potential… My 18-month old put his own clothes in the laundry basket this week, and before I knew it he was backing out of the driveway in my mind. How DO you bear it!?
Long ago (or was it just a few minutes ago) I stood where you are standing. Now I am in the place you saw down through time. It is all of those things Lisa-Jo. By His grace, it is all of those things and more.
And then suddenly he is at 23….married….and launched out on his own and doing well! He is home for a visit and we just had a lunch date over sushi! “And I treasure these things in my heart……”
wow. my beautiful little boy is just 16 months. I’ll try to savor all the holding (when I need to be working on dinner) and helping (when I’m in the middle of something), and walking to sleep (when I wish he could go to sleep on his own) a bit more this week. I cannot even fathom what this journey of watching him become a man is going to look like.
oh my. you are killing me. how I am bawling!
my baby turns 6 on Friday, and you had to go and write this post…
beautiful, lisa jo.
Perfect. Only by God’s grace, will my boys grow into faitful men of God. This picture of the future is so real I can almost touch it, but I want to run from tomorrow, and keep these small creatures the size they are, and never let them grow up.
Thank you for the beautiful post!
xoxo,
Jess
Love this!
Oh my, this is a tear jerker.
It’s a tough thing, letting go of that little boy who’s suddenly become a man. Mine will be 21 in just over 2 months, and it’s all I can do not to hold on for dear life to him, to stop him from growing up and out and away from me. It’s so hard for this Mama to let go.
These are such precious words. I’m not a mama but I have a nephew (age 6) and lately I’ve been more aware of how much he’s changing. I’ve always loved (and been so challenged) by how wild and imaginative and fearless he is. Thanks for reminding me to treasure those moments. I so enjoy reading your blog! : )
How do I bear it? Arms missing more than holding? By savoring each moment when my arms are full of boy. And by choosing to treat each glance, grin, laugh, smirk as its own sort of hug.
i have two. boys. and the older’s voice is deep and he’ll be 16 on friday. and the younger doesn’t snuggle up any more. a 7th grader. they took me out to dinner for my birthday. chris was away. ghana. or was it orlando? and hank drove. and they paid for it. and we were all proud. we raise them for god and for another. and we get the years of treasure.
How do I bear it?! Can’t really! I know the love that wells in my heart at each smile, each new word that is read, (my son is also 6!) each new song of praise that he learns… and I think of HOW MUCH MORE our Father loves us! How can HE bear it!? How can he let us hurt? How can he let us make wrong choices? But I know the answer because it is the same reasons that I let my own son mess up as he tries something new. When he succeeds, the joy for both of us is far greater than if I’d done it for him AND the glory goes to God and not to me! How do I bear it when I think my heart cannot be any more proud of him or fearful for his future or cautious of his steps? How do I bear it?
I find that, as a mother, my heart opens more than I EVER thought it could! It cries more for joy than I ever thought humanly possible. And it cries in a pain so deep that I sometimes think I can’t find my way out.
Ah, but if you are very blessed, like I am, you get a 25 year old who brings home a girl you are proud to call your daughter. A girl who calls you “mom” and means it. And they present you with a lovely little bundle of pink. And the cycle begins again. And you glory watching them loving their own. And you thank God for these blessings beyond counting. And you understand more and more and more that one day we will be together for always in a place where there are no more sad tears and there is joy packed down and overflowing.
It is so good.
Sweetness to the very soul, Lisa-Jo!
My oldest boy, now driving…my baby boy, finally toddling…and all the beautiful gift of moments in between. Thanks for the reminder to relish every one!
{Sigh.} {{Double sigh.}} Yes, this is the plan, this is the cycle, this is the way of life for us humans here on this blue marble planet. And it is beautiful and it is hard and it is tender and it is mystifying. And it is so, so worth it. I had the opposite configuration to you – two girls followed by an unexpected boy. And that boy was my sweet, surprisingly smart, quirky companion for the next 10 years, content to be in my company, to hang out, to go along for the ride – wherever I was headed.
About 11, the pull-away began and I learned that if I really wanted to talk to him, to actually hear his heart, I needed to be in a place where eye contact was not required. So we did a lot of driving for a few years. Or eating in a restaurant where he could easily look around. And then the words would trip out. That’s how I found a way to bear it until he began to date the girl who became his wife. Then we re-found each other, as adults, as committed, loving fellow-journeyers who could once again look each other in the eye And he has certainly grown into the dreamed-of, prayed-for potential of that four, five and six-year-old. He’s now a doctor with a specialty in hospice and palliative care, a great husband and dad to two small girls. He has ‘worked out his own salvation with fear and trembling,’ and we have seen the hand of God throughout his story. That’s how we bear it, Lisa-Jo. There are lots of fits and starts along the way, but you learn to release – over and over again. So many blessings to you as you plan for stage one of that long, tender process.
My little boy will turn 8 months next week and I sit and look at him all the time and think these things. He has already pushed away kisses and reached to play with others and I wonder how I will handle it when he walks into the school for the first time and out of my rescuing arms. I don’t know how I will bear it, but I am so thankful that I have the opportunity to watch him grow and change. So in the same breath that I say I can’t bear it, I can’t wait to see the path that God has chosen for him and the man he will grow up to be.
Thank you so much for your thoughts.
Suzi
Hm, there appear to be themes in the blogs I’m reading these days! Thought I’d pass this on, I think you’d like the song at the end.
http://stevebell.com/2009/08/saying-bye-to-jess/
And beyond that comes the joy and the grace of seeing your own children have children. Holding the baby of your baby. Handing your grandchild to your parent…in my case I was blessed to hand my grandson to my grandmother. Locking hands with the love of your life and watching the children all leave…then turning into your empty nest to spend time enyoying the quiet after the mayhem. Finding a lose sock forgotten and hanging it on a pegboard in the laundry room, because it won’t fit when the boy child returns. Seeing that same sock 13 years later and embracing treasure. Hold that boy, those beautiful children with open hands and embrace all the birthdays. Live in the present and don’t fret. Each season brings a magnitude of new and exciting joys! I’m on the other side and it is grand.
I’m in the middle of raising my 16 year old. And I have a feeling that career and calling, and digging his feet deep into the soil will all come .. with a bucket load of tears. Raising boys and then turning them loose is … a blessing.
I loved this post. Thanks for sharing!
Love this.