As you know dear readers, my oldest is at a church camp this week. Through the texts he sends he seems to be having a marvelous time. I am so glad. He needs some marvelous times in his life. He is such an old 15, carries the
responsibilities of a man on his shoulders, even when I try to make him not. The moment I first looked at him I knew that he was special. I knew his work in this life would be great. Maybe not world great, but great nonetheless.
To look at him you would not see him for who he is; he is shaggy haired teenager, quiet, an educational
underachiever (although his IQ sits at 130), and I am not sure what he aspires to be. His greatness is in his ability to protect, to love, and to be good. I am not sure where he gets it, as it seems it has always been there.
He's not perfect, he makes mistakes, has a smart mouth, and doesn't like you to know he cares, but if you watch him, really watch him you will witness his age and wisdom.
At night he checks the doors and locks, carries little children to their beds, and turns off all the lights. He teaches them to ride their bikes, and fight against bullies. He teases them, and hugs them, and shows them how to do anything it is they need to know. He talks to them about girls (and or boys). He lets them stay up late and have sleepovers in his room when I am already asleep. He raises them without being expected to or asked, and actually I have tried to plead with him to be 15, and he chooses this instead. It is no wonder Quinn insists that it be Zack who baptizes him when he is 8, and will not be swayed. What an honor for his
sacrifice.
I am ashamed to say we are more like friends than mother/son. In some ways he is the older and more mature of the two of us. He grew up with me and we went through all this pain of the illness of his father together. It was a terrible burden for a child and shameful of me not to protect him sooner. He has done it better than me. I honor him for that.
So this week as he is gone doing what he should be, enjoying his life, here at home we long for him. He is our missing piece. Everyday, several times a day I hear "I miss Zack, when is he coming home?" We were going to let him be brought home by his friends, but these little kids are chomping at the bit to go up and surprise him and pick him up. They can't wait. They love him. We must all be a little better when he comes home to let him play and be a kid while he still can. Let him be just a little more free, a little more light hearted. Maybe he can have the joy I never felt as a child and then he can do his life better than I did.
In a few short years he will be gone from our home and I wonder will I have taught him anything? I have made so many mistakes in his young life, but I think maybe, just maybe I taught him how to love. I hope I have taught him he mattered and that he belongs to something even greater than me, someone who loves him even deeper than I do. I hope I have.
Saturday cannot come soon enough!
To look at him you would not see him for who he is; he is shaggy haired teenager, quiet, an educational underachiever (although his IQ sits at 130), and I am not sure what he aspires to be. His greatness is in his ability to protect, to love, and to be good. I am not sure where he gets it, as it seems it has always been there.
He's not perfect, he makes mistakes, has a smart mouth, and doesn't like you to know he cares, but if you watch him, really watch him you will witness his age and wisdom.
At night he checks the doors and locks, carries little children to their beds, and turns off all the lights. He teaches them to ride their bikes, and fight against bullies. He teases them, and hugs them, and shows them how to do anything it is they need to know. He talks to them about girls (and or boys). He lets them stay up late and have sleepovers in his room when I am already asleep. He raises them without being expected to or asked, and actually I have tried to plead with him to be 15, and he chooses this instead. It is no wonder Quinn insists that it be Zack who baptizes him when he is 8, and will not be swayed. What an honor for his sacrifice.
I am ashamed to say we are more like friends than mother/son. In some ways he is the older and more mature of the two of us. He grew up with me and we went through all this pain of the illness of his father together. It was a terrible burden for a child and shameful of me not to protect him sooner. He has done it better than me. I honor him for that.
So this week as he is gone doing what he should be, enjoying his life, here at home we long for him. He is our missing piece. Everyday, several times a day I hear "I miss Zack, when is he coming home?" We were going to let him be brought home by his friends, but these little kids are chomping at the bit to go up and surprise him and pick him up. They can't wait. They love him. We must all be a little better when he comes home to let him play and be a kid while he still can. Let him be just a little more free, a little more light hearted. Maybe he can have the joy I never felt as a child and then he can do his life better than I did.
In a few short years he will be gone from our home and I wonder will I have taught him anything? I have made so many mistakes in his young life, but I think maybe, just maybe I taught him how to love. I hope I have taught him he mattered and that he belongs to something even greater than me, someone who loves him even deeper than I do. I hope I have.
Saturday cannot come soon enough!