Thunder

We sat at the table early (though to you, maybe not.) Shining sun clouded out into dark shades of gray while sky water doesn't puddle, but flows steady through our yard. Pencils strewn about the table in a myriad of colors. Children chatter and create.

Small February rumbles go unnoticed over the hum of yogurt incubating nearby. As rumbles grow, I listen. I watch.

I watch my boy. Waiting.

Suddenly, at peak, his eyes meet mine. Big. Mouth parted, ready to ask.

I smile bright, glowing excitement. Hoping to dispel fears. "Thunder!"

His face hardly changes. Slowly, methodically, with forced smile, he speaks, "But why is there thunder in the morning?" His lip doesn't quiver, but I see it there. His voice doesn't quite shake, but I hear it. No tears come, but I see them. He works so hard to push all signs of panic from himself.

But I see. I see it all and my heart can only smile inside. My words work quickly... gently... to calm his anxious heart. But inside I cherish this moment. This memory.

How long will it be before his heart is brave and these moments are gone forever?

Daddy comes out later and I relate the little story to him quietly... "you know that little way he does it." I say, knowing that he'll know.

How I love my sweet boy.








Counting on...

201. his little quirks

202. all his fears

203. his dependence on me

204. his cuddles

205. his independence

206. his decision to "always obey from now on"

207. more discipline after that

208. raising up this little heart

209. learning to mommy him better

210. learning to depend on my Father in loving His little ones

211. thunderstorms in February