Sunday, March 9, 2014

...my baby has a beard

My whiskered almost 18 year old just stuffed scholarship application packets in these oh-so-official manilla envelopes.

I had the privilege of reading a reference letter that was a statement of who our son is when we are not around.  The words were the kind that make your knees buckle with thankfulness and awe.

A few moments later, my baby boy looked up from his cell phone and said, "Hey, Mom.  A. is asking if L. and I can write a song and sing it for his wedding, but I'm not sure when I have to be at Columbia."

So, I sit down at my computer and pull up Columbia Bible College, click over to the calender and tell him the date for new student arrival.  Then I gasp, "Oh my goodness." 

... and I begin to cry.

Rich and Davis look up in alarm and I stammer, "I'm just having a mom moment."  Davis smiles and I cry and laugh all at once.  I squeak out, "This is wonderful!  This is horrible!"

Then they laugh and I walk over and kiss his head.  "I love you so much."

"Love you too, Mom."

Aaargh!  I walk away laughing,  "My baby has a beard!"

And I'm dying inside with the sweetest pain.

1 comment:

  1. I understand completely, my friend. You and Rich have done such an awesome job of raising your kids. It's hard to move to the next stage of life because letting go is the hardest step in parenting yet, when I think about it, they are never really ours to begin with. God just allows us the honor of being parents in order to shape and direct them to run after God's own heart. Well done, good and faithful servant.

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