So, tomorrow is the start of something big for my littlest one. He will be attending young 5's starting in the fall and so we decided that we have finally hit the point that his "lisp" may require some more attention than him simply "growing out of it." I am loathe to admit this, however. Why would I want to change the sound of his little impish voice calling out through the house, "Mama, where are you? Are you in the chicken??" "Mommy, come and help me, I'm in the bafwoom." "I yub you, Mama!" I don't want to, I don't. But, him. I need to do this for him. Because he will soon be entering the "hallowed halls of academia" and it simply won't do to have him being teased because his favorite shoes are his "cwocks" or because he's trying to show off his cool "yunchbox." And so, off we will go tomorrow morning to his first appointment with the speech therapist...
I have truly loved all the stages and changes each of my kids have gone through thus far. I mean, there have been trying times, but generally speaking; I SO enjoy each of them. Watching them grow and discover and become - well, it's simply amazing.
Things are a little different with this one though, and I know it's because he is my last. My baby. I haven't been as quick to want him to spread his wings, haven't minded the fact that he's a bit of a late bloomer. No, in truth, I have relished it. Have thanked God many a time that this little one, my last one, needs me perhaps a bit more than the others did.
Aside from the fact that tomorrow is Pierce's first speech therapy appointment, we also just found out he will need glasses, AND Thursday is his 5th birthday. Quite a week for my little man. So, we were talking about all of these changes tonight at dinner and Carter (my 7 year old) asked Nic (my husband) if he was proud of Pierce because he was turning 5. Nic replied, "Well, I am proud of him, honey, but he will turn 5 without trying."
The conversation continued around me, but I was struck with that thought. He will turn 5 without trying. And in truth, many of his "accomplishments" up to this point have simply been the result of his normal growth. And yet, I am so proud of him. So proud, it makes my chest tighten up and my throat swell and tears spring to my eyes when I think about it. I am proud of him and I love him - so much - not because of what he does, but because of who he is.
And then another thought came to me, this my friends, is exactly how God feels about us. He doesn't love us because of what we DO, He loves us because of who we ARE. We are His. We are precious. He doesn't rush our growth to get us to the end product, or tap his foot impatiently as he waits for us to mature. He relishes the journey with us just as we do with our own children. He may even want to slow it down sometimes, enjoy the moment, listen to us call out to him imperfectly one more time...and I believe His heart swells with pride as we make each baby step towards Him.
This thought will make my trek to the speech therapist tomorrow a little easier...but, just a little.