I have very fond memories of my sister's father, when she and I were both still very little. At night, he would tuck us each into our beds, and he would sing to us. He had a very rich baritone, and is the one who started a love of music in my heart. He would tuck us into bed, first Mandy, then me. Then he would go and kneel by her bed and sing "All night, All day... Angels watching over me, my Lord. All night. All day... Angels watching over me." Then he would come and kneel by my bed and sing the same. I remember one time when he was taking me back to Indiana, and a great song cam on the radio -- one he used to sing at home. And I asked him, "Will you please sing for me, Daddy?" And he did. I love his voice.
At night, I've been rocking with my son in my arms, just before I put him down. I don't rock until he's asleep, but until he's done bonding with me. I used to sing all kinds of hymns. I love the old hymns. They tell the most beautiful stories. And... well, they remind me of my childhood. I was so young that I just believed what my parents did. Such a young faith... Anyway. I loved that time of sharing a little bit of my past with my son. And recently he doesn't want to hear the beautiful hymns that I want to sing to him.
My son's lullaby of choice: The Wheels on the Bus. His favorite verse: "the horn on the bus goes Beep beep beep..." When it gets to that part, he sings "beep beep beep beep" right along with me. And at the end he says "to-own". It's so cute, and I love that we're bonding his way now. But I do miss singing those hymns to him. I miss the way he would rest his head on my shoulder. Now he's all making motions with his hands and stuff. He goes down just as easy as ever... but I still miss the quiet time with him.
He's getting so big now. I just wish that he stay little... just in one little part of his life. But he won't. Not for a long time. Some day, some day he'll drag a toy around, a part of him will stay tiny. But not yet. Right now he needs to establish his independence from me, his own routines, and his own security items. One day he'll need his mommy again. But right now, right now I get to just sit back and watch as the Lord guides my baby by the hand.
I can't wait to watch as the Lord guides him in the ways of wisdom and truth, not just conscience.
Father,
You know my precious little boy. You fashioned him in my womb, and you already have a plan for him. I look at his tiny little face, and it baffles me that you know what he will do with the rest of hislife. Tomorrow has no meaning to him, and yet you have all of his tomorrows planned. Father, I know that you may choose to take him tonight... and I'm not sure what I would do if you did. But Father, please leave him in my care a little longer. Please let me see him grow up into a man like my father. Help him to learn to love you with all of his heart, and to share that love with others. Make his father and me good examples -- let us live your love and your word to him every moment of every day. Thank you for the awesome privilege of watching your plans unfold in his tiny, but precious, little life.
Amen.
1 comment:
As I read this just now, I was reminded of the joy I found in my little ones. They are so neat. The hard part for me was when they began wanting things other than those I wanted for them. It took quite a while to learn how to gracefully (and gratefully) appreciate them for their own uniqueness, something I don't think all parents learn. It is my prayer that my guys know that I do appreciate them for their differences from me--and the joy they each uniquely bring me as I watch their grown-up lives.
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