Gratitude Friday: My Son…

Rhys

This was one of those weeks where I felt like God wasn’t doing a whole of a speaking to me.  Y’all ever have one of those weeks?  In His defense (which, clearly, He needs for me to offer up), I’ve written over 10,000 words this month on various projects and so, truly, He probably needed to take a breather.  He’s been speaking so loudly and clearly and some days, I can’t keep up.

And I’m a fairly fast typist.

Anytime I feel like things are quiet, I start telling myself our Only God stories.  You know, those times in your life when God just flat SHOWED OFF in your world.  When there is no doubt Who was holding you in His hands.  Those moments you continue to be in awe of even though they might have been years ago.

That is where I found myself.

Today, I met with my son’s preschool teacher for our first parent-teacher conference.  He’s four but has a summer birthday.  There’s a less than zero percent chance he’s going to kindergarten at five next year.  Just not.  So, in my mind, he’s three.

I mean, he’s so happily four because, y’all, the Threenager year was awful in every way you can imagine.  He does not even resemble that person now.  He is very much NOT three.  But you know what I mean.  He’s got another year of preschool before he goes to Sister’s big-kid school.

And he is adorably anxious to get to the big-kid school.

The meeting today was a simple update on where he is academically and how he is behaving.  Good news, he’s a delight.  His teacher says he is kind and social and a natural leader.  According to her, the entire class is…off…if he’s absent.

Yep.

He’s well-behaved, incredibly creative, and an excellent friend to the other kids.

However.

Not so good news, he knows only one letter.  “R.”  He would only count to five for her (he can count to almost 20, as long as no one needs that pesky number 16).  But he can’t recognize any of his numbers.  He does know his colors and shapes though, so yay, for SOMETHING.

The amount I am concerned about all his academic shortcomings?

None.

He’ll get all that.  Good gracious, he’s equal parts smart and ALL BOY.  Right now, he wants and needs to run and jump and move.  He loves book and art and music.  Those letters and numbers can wait.  His one and only carefree childhood can not.

The teacher ended the conversation by saying Skillet’s personality can be summed up in one word…Positive.

And he is that.  Just a joyful, happy, easy-to-please little man.

The Only God story I’ve had stuck in my this week was about Skillet’s birth.  His rather dramatic, miraculous entrance into the world.

The Cliff Notes version?  Skillet kicked my uterus open.  He was born via an emergency c-section.  I knew the moment contractions went from on and off to plain ON, something was wrong.  But the anesthesiologist was already in an emergency surgery so I had the pleasure of waiting in agony FOR FOREVER.  And then we had to wait for the OR to open up.

While we waited there was not a single drop of blood, Skillet’s heart rate never changed, and my blood pressure stayed in the normal range.

Until.

The OR opened up and the nurses started prepping me for surgery.

Then, the bleeding began.

I managed to bleed A LOT from my room to the OR.  So let’s just say, there was running.

Now, I know that I know that I know my uterus broke two hours before that.  I felt it.

God simply held me together.

He kept me from bleeding.  He kept Skillet calm.  He kept me steady.

God has big plans for my son.

Big.  Plans.

And as I sit and listen to Skillet’s sweet teacher telling me how kind and joyful and creative he is?  I am once again reminded how God’s plans for him are even bigger than Skillet’s miraculous welcome to the world.

What stories are you telling yourself?  Are they filled with Only God moments?  Where is God showing you He’s not through with those stories?

We are what we meditate on.  We cannot be double minded.  Think on the things of God, His story for you and the work He’s already done in your life.

And be grateful for the work ahead.  He’s already done that too.  You just get the joy of seeing it unfold.

Thank you, Father, for my sweet, smart, amazing boy.  He really is joyful and I am forever grateful for how You knit him together.

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestEmail this to someone

Leave a Comment