My wife is getting ready for a consignment sale to be held at the church. She is going through all of our sons clothes he wore from birth-three years old. It's seriously taken me down memory lane. She just pulled out some of the first Nike's I got for him. (I thought he might have been a baller.) As I see this happening I'm brought back to the place of first holding Jackson and remembering his smell and the way he felt, thinking I might break him with the wrong move, and wondering what we were really going to do with this little life that just moved in to our quiet home.
What a gift. What an opportunity. What a scary ride. What an awesome chance to co-create with the creator! WORD!
As I write tonight, my son is upstairs sleeping. When I got home from youth group I walked into his room, kissed him on him his cheek and said a small prayer. I'm so thankful that I got to see Jackson grow up in those baby clothes.
God you ROCK!
Speak on it...