Big

Owen is long. Tall. Stretched. Big.

His height is already threatening mine. Not quite to my shoulder, but close.

His heart is big too. I’m extremely proud of this boy.

He loves. His heart is not perfect, but he does love. He loves his God. He doesn’t always see Him in the people around him, but if I mention that he has mistreated or hurt someone God loves, and that it reflects his relationship with God, it melts him.

I am amazed at how sincere he is. How honest. How truly good his heart is.

Earlier this month, in conversation during play with his buddy across the street, he encouraged him to ask Jesus into his heart. This was not a new concept for Bradley, he’s been in church all his life, he just hadn’t prayed the prayer yet. Owen wanted him to take care of that. He suggested some wording and prayed with him.

He told me later, “mom, after he prayed, Bradley just couldn’t stop grinning.”

Neither could I.

He is his own. So many attributes of Kris and I, but so much only himself. I wonder at him at times and then other times, completely relate, understand and feel his joy and pain.

He reads as if his brain will starve without a book. He is hungry for story, for wonder, for mind adventure. I can’t keep up. I used to read everything that he reads. I read to be sure it’s all okay, but I can’t do it every time anymore. I have to trust, pray, trust and listen.

He leads quietly, he works faithfully, helping when asked, dutifully, the oldest child that does the right things. I can count on him. I hope for him. I worry, but I don’t worry scared. I worry cautiously. That I don’t take advantage, push too hard, expect too much. He rises to the expectation because he wants to do the right thing. He loves to be right. I want him to love being.

He grows fast. Not just on the outside.

It is so important to feed him well. Not just in his stomach.

Today I watched a video about healthy children. It pushed me to look close at what I do at home to keep my family well. I was with them until the end. “What is more important than your child’s health?” the voice said expectantly. Dangling my worth in front of me in crayon art of pears and apples. My spirit stiff armed the message. Wrong. There is so much more. The heart! Who will advocate the child’s heart? I wanted to toss the whole away. It looks so good, such a well made roof to keep the bad from falling on us, but it’s foundation is off, it cannot shelter me.

He and his brothers started training in karate this year. He surprises me at what he can do. His ability to remember, to perfect, to be precise. His instructors are patient, but honest and they suit him well.

School, church, karate, home, He does well. He has so much still to learn, but I am so confident in his eagerness and strength in learning. God has him tight. My heart is peaceful.

I am blessed.