I remember this summer sunrise on an early morning run. It was one of those moments you want to freeze in time. My boys were still sleeping. No homework to do, no buses to catch, no lunches to make. The whole summer ahead of us, but like all of the summers to follow, it came and went faster than I ever would have dreamed. That morning was 14 years ago, and I remember it like it happened this morning. Those early morning runs were when I did most of my praying. Just trying to make it through another day of Nerf gun wars, fights over video games, and someone cheating in backyard baseball. Many mornings, I was so overwhelmed all I could do was just run and listen to worship music. What I know now that I did not realize then is raising children is not a sprint; it's not even a run. It's a daily walk of doing the absolute best you can in that one day. It's taking a deep breath and asking Jesus for not only "our daily bread" but a daily dose of grace and patience. All parents have a unique set of challenges with each child, and I in no way feel that raising girls is any easier than raising boys. However, I have a definite passion and heart for moms who are raising sons and only sons. It is a different kind of calling. Each day we are trying to shape these little boys into the men God has called them to be. Knowing one day, each little hand will let go of ours and walk their own path. As parents, this is a truth we must embrace long before it actually happens, and for boy moms, we must embrace that eventually, our sons will hold another's hand.
As a mom, it is hard to think of my world not looking like this picture, but this was only for a season. In all the crazy chaos of Drew thinking he knew everything, Josh being stubborn about everything and Luke whining about everything, the days would run together. Just like seasons, children are always changing. Those tiny changes become a shift. It maybe a minuscule. It may even go unnoticed, and yet, it is still a shift because we correct, we discipline, and we teach. We have wins but with just as many losses. What we must realize is every summer eventually shifts into fall and every fall is filled with its own tiny moments. Like the seasons, our sons are always slowly and gradually shifting.
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