It occured to me the other day, just how fast my my son, James is growing up. He turned four the end of March, and apparently he now has been made aware of this. I lay in bed the other morning and James comes walking in with a smile upon his face. I ask for my morning love which consists of a quick hug and kiss and sometimes some snuggle time with my little buddy. Nothing in the world can compare to this. I love it when he just lays there and talks to me. I never know where his conversations will take us. He has a vivid imagination and sometimes I am amazed at the topics he brings up. This morning was different however. He did give me my morning love, but then quickly said "hold on Mommy, I'll be right back." He comes running back in with pen and paper in hand. He looks at me bright eyed and says "Mommy I'm gonna draw something for you." He grabs the pen and paper and immediately his creation is brought to life. He says "look Mommy, I drawed you a baby." I say "A baby?" James again looks at me and says "yes a baby". I tell him thank you and he then slowly makes his way into the kitchen where Jeremy is cooking breakfast for us.
I can hear their voices over the crackle and sizzle of bacon frying on the griddle. James in an excited voice says "Look, Look Daddy, look at what I drawed Mommy." Jeremy takes the picture and I hear James say "I drawed her a little baby" Jeremy asks "Why a baby?" Expecting James to say something like because I want a baby sister or brother, I hear him say "so Mommy will quit calling me her baby." While my husband found this to be hysterical, I on the other hand, did not. I lay in bed and thought about these words for a minute. I know my son was speaking the truth, but somehow those words had hurt my spirit. To me it doesn't matter how old my son gets, he will ALWAYS be my baby. Nothing could ever change that in my eyes. To my son though, he is now four years old which makes him a BIG Boy, one of the guys, I suppose. Now that he is four, I guess he feels it's now time to take on the world.
I know my son must grow, and with each year another birthday will come. It is inevitable. I guess I just somehow want to cling to all these moments. My husband says I shouldn't "baby him" so much and I suppose my husband is right (even though I hate admitting this). I just look at my son and I can still see the innocence in his big blue eyes. I just don't want that to go away. That means everything to me. I just want to call a "stop time" but I know that is not how life works. I know that seasons will come and seasons will go, and just like the hands on a clock, time is of the essence.
Pretty soon my son will be in school and doing things that I would normally do for him. I just pray that James will always know just how very special he is to me. I suppose I should start letting him take on the world, but for me it will take baby steps. He will and forever will be my baby though. I made a deal with him (yes a deal with my four year old) that I will stop calling him my baby, as long as he allows me to continue to calling him Butterbean. This he didn't seem to mind, and I too was happy. I suppose it takes a Mother to truly understand how I feel and where I am coming from. It is hard letting him go. But I guess that is what we as parents must do. We come into this world as a baby and slowly make our decent into adulthood. We eventually must leave our nests and make homes of our own.
I pray that God is with my son as he grows and that he will help me along the way to let go. Until then, I will always and forever cherish these moments. In my heart, my son will forever be My Baby, My Butterbean, My Life.
Mi Familia
Jeremy, Dallas and James
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
How Great Thou Art
We had church today at my place of work. The residents slowly made their way into the family/living room, ready with open hearts and minds to hear Gods word. Boger City Baptist came in this morning, and thus the praise hymns began. I sat at my desk and just smiled as I heard the old familiar chourus of "How Great Thou Art". This was mostly sung off key and one gentlemens voice stood out above the crowd. He was LOUD and ahead of the music. It was one of those things where you cannot help but laugh. As I sat there, I was taken back to church days as a little girl. I can still hear the choir and congregation now. Then, those hymns might not have meant as much, as then I did not fully understand God's love and grace. Those old hymns mean much more to me these days.
When I hear the sweet words of "How Great Thou Art" I am reminded of my Gramps, Hubert B. Williams who passed away when I was only nine years of age. This was his favorite hymnal. Even though it has been 21 years since the Lord called him home, I can still picture him as he was. Most likey standing in the kitchen with a peanut butter and banana sandwich, or down in his garden digging away. My Gramps always had the best garden. And I don't know why, but food always seemed to taste better when he made it. Even though those 21 years have come and gone, I still think of him often. I often wish he were still alive and with us today. I wish he would have had the opportunity to meet my son. I can just see the smile on his face right now. I am thankful that a hymn of praise can bring back so many fond and wonderful memories. Now my Gramps gets to sing "How Great Thou Art" any time he wants, only now, it is in the presence of Jesus. How Great Thou Art!
Next was "Victory in Jesus" and still the one mans voice rang out above the crowd.
I left my desk for a minute and snuck a peak around the corner. There the residents were, wheelchairs and all, singing to the top of their lungs. It's didn't seem to matter that everyone was off key and either ahead or behind when singing the chourus. They were simply praising the Lord. No matter the tune, I am sure this was pleasing to the Lord. You see God doesn't care what you have on, where you attend church, how bad the music might be, or how off key you yourself may sound. All he cares, is that when you praise him, you do it with an open heart.
I was saddened this morning because it was my weekend to work. Another Saturday and Sunday to come and go and me wishing I was some place else. I wanted to be at my own church this morning. I wanted to play catch up with my family and friends. I wanted to be anywhere else, but there, stuck at work. Coming in this morning was a struggle for me. I was simply tired and wanting so badly to be anywhere but there. Within 15 minutes of being there (work), none of that seemed to matter. God had brought church to me. I may not have been in the room physically to hear Gods message today, but God brought his message to me through others. I had church today and I thank the Lord for it. I can still hear those old hymns. "How Great Thou Art" "Victory in Jesus" and "God I Come". I thank the Lord for those hymns and I thank him once again for reminding me of just how great he is. Until next time, I will cling to the old rugged cross.
When I hear the sweet words of "How Great Thou Art" I am reminded of my Gramps, Hubert B. Williams who passed away when I was only nine years of age. This was his favorite hymnal. Even though it has been 21 years since the Lord called him home, I can still picture him as he was. Most likey standing in the kitchen with a peanut butter and banana sandwich, or down in his garden digging away. My Gramps always had the best garden. And I don't know why, but food always seemed to taste better when he made it. Even though those 21 years have come and gone, I still think of him often. I often wish he were still alive and with us today. I wish he would have had the opportunity to meet my son. I can just see the smile on his face right now. I am thankful that a hymn of praise can bring back so many fond and wonderful memories. Now my Gramps gets to sing "How Great Thou Art" any time he wants, only now, it is in the presence of Jesus. How Great Thou Art!
Next was "Victory in Jesus" and still the one mans voice rang out above the crowd.
I left my desk for a minute and snuck a peak around the corner. There the residents were, wheelchairs and all, singing to the top of their lungs. It's didn't seem to matter that everyone was off key and either ahead or behind when singing the chourus. They were simply praising the Lord. No matter the tune, I am sure this was pleasing to the Lord. You see God doesn't care what you have on, where you attend church, how bad the music might be, or how off key you yourself may sound. All he cares, is that when you praise him, you do it with an open heart.
I was saddened this morning because it was my weekend to work. Another Saturday and Sunday to come and go and me wishing I was some place else. I wanted to be at my own church this morning. I wanted to play catch up with my family and friends. I wanted to be anywhere else, but there, stuck at work. Coming in this morning was a struggle for me. I was simply tired and wanting so badly to be anywhere but there. Within 15 minutes of being there (work), none of that seemed to matter. God had brought church to me. I may not have been in the room physically to hear Gods message today, but God brought his message to me through others. I had church today and I thank the Lord for it. I can still hear those old hymns. "How Great Thou Art" "Victory in Jesus" and "God I Come". I thank the Lord for those hymns and I thank him once again for reminding me of just how great he is. Until next time, I will cling to the old rugged cross.
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