I Don’t Own Anyone

My life is about to change. I walked past my middle son’s room this morning and he called out to me.  I have your ring. Sitting at his desk he looked down at a slender paper hand he’d cut out and drawn with modest nails and sweet, penciled curly-q’s for knuckles. The hand was just the size of his beloved’s, which he had stealthily measured with his skillful eye against his palm. On the fourth finger of this precious artwork was my engagement ring, serving as a mere spark for his brilliant dreams and designs.

I love this boy, this young man. I have looked up to him for 22 years. I would like to say that I made him the person he is, but that would not be the truth. I am blessed to be his mother. I am blessed that God’s deliberate hand placed him and his brothers in my midst to love and nurture.  I delight in these, God’s very own children.

He is leaving me someday, this child I admire, to join his dearest, whom I am also blessed to adore. I heard long ago that parents should pray for the future spouses of their children, so I did. I prayed for her years before I knew this girl whose hands would inspire my son to visions of diamonds and curly-q knuckles. Those who God puts in my life are precious to me and I want only to shine and reflect our Father’s love upon them.

“And I will be a father to you, And you shall be sons and daughters to Me,” Says the Lord Almighty. 2 Corinthians 6:18