Sometimes from a distance I don't know my own son. This man-child who is growing up before me. Even his walk has changed; lanky, in control, but still my Ryan. Kind of child growing into a body he's only trying on these days. It is taking over, pushing his little boy self out of the way for more room. I don't know this boy who looks down at things he used to look up to. I am in love with this person, and angry at him for replacing my son. I feel cheated a little, or robbed. And yet proud of myself, as if I, as his mother, actually accomplished this troubling and fascinating feat on my own. Look at my baby! He's growing up so fast, I can't keep him in shoes or clothes! It isn't any wonder that motherhood is so misunderstood by those who have never experienced this miracle. But then, who if us have ever truly begun to understand a miracle.
It was not a packed gymnasium he walked this morning, and it was not a graduation gown he wore as he made his backpack laden way lout of the same door he has used the past 3 years. But I found myself watching him in the same way you would your graduate. Or your 4 year old. There is no difference in a Mother's economy. Watch me, mommy. Look at me. Watch me dive!! Are you watching me?!!! But he wasn't calling me, or even aware this time that I was watching him walk away from me. My hands are still out, just as they were when he took his first steps. Come to mommy, come on...Big boy. But then I was there to catch him. His chubby hands twisting out of my grasp before I was ready to let him go. He would cry when he fell; fear and anger at his little failing. I can't catch him now when he falls or fails. And I know he will cry. And I'm still not ready to let him go.
Precious Lord, this amazing and perplexing creation You placed within me has owned my heart since my first awareness that he was there. It is almost frightening in the intensity of it; this love that defies description. Nights and days running into nights, I remember rocking him, wishing, praying, he would just go to sleep, please God...But knowing, too soon, my entire body would ache for just one more chance to hold him while he still fit so perfectly in the crook of my arm.
I wonder sometimes about the indescribable beauty of babies. How can You place these perfect treasures inside of such imperfect vessels? Is motherhood another picture of your amazing grace? In your great love and mercy for us, do you just allow us to be your vessels, knowing we could never deserve it; never be good enough, never, ever be able to go a day without You? Wanting so badly to call ourselves "good" and able, and realizing, at the end of the day, when we've fallen so short of all that we are called to be as mothers, You reach down, as our Father, and forgive, and encourage, and strengthen us. He is mine, You tell me. This beautiful, beautiful boy. I love him more than you do.
And so I watched him walk away this morning. My son, and brother in Christ, rolled into one. I cried, and I smiled, and I was so shamefully proud, sure that I saw God holding his now slender hand, never letting go, even if Ryan tried to wiggle free. Thank you, God, that as Your child, You are also holding mine.
"Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from Him." ~ Psalm 127:3
Tuesday, June 21, 2011 at 11:57AM