As James wraps up his preschool days in the next week, this mama can’t help but wonder where the time went. As we all do, I have certain special burdens on my heart for my not-so-little-anymore boy. These burdens have been more pronounced recently as we have approached this big shift in his life and in ours.
In this past year, the Lord has been so good to allow me to find my way back to motherhood again, giving me the strength and the wherewithal to be James’ mommy again. I am in awe at the agony and ecstasy that mothering is, and I am so grateful to get that experience now, one that I certainly should not have ever had by all rational accounts. It’s not always pretty, but it is mine, and I love it.
Nonetheless, a constant fear resides in the back of my mind, as hard as I have tried to force it out…what scars will James carry from the hardships in my life? I suppose we all have scars from our parents, whether inflicted intentionally or more often by virtue of circumstances that we/they cannot control. How we approach and even embrace our own scars is the most important, but as parents, how we approach and embrace the scars we give to our children seems painfully important too.
I am so proud and almost giddy when I see this little sleepy-eyed half baby, half boy. What hopes I have for him, and what plans God has too. I can only give him everything that I have, as lacking as it may be sometimes, but thankfully, the prayers of so many and the grace of God will certainly fill that gap. I pray that someday he will be able to embrace the scars I have unwittingly given him, though I truly feel he will take them and mold them into something beautiful, but for right now, my real hope is that I can make peace with those scars too, and I will.