Such a Fine Boy

May 30, 2008

Ethan bike crop My Son!

 

Today is my son’s birthday.

 

Psalm 127:3-5a in the New International Version reads:

3 Sons are a heritage from the LORD,
       children a reward from him.

4 Like arrows in the hands of a warrior
       are sons born in one’s youth.

5 Blessed is the man
       whose quiver is full of them.

I would like to celebrate my son. 

He is a fine boy.  He is beautiful, or should I say handsome.  He has large blue eyes and heavy lashes that cause him some degree of embarrassment.  This stems from ladies commenting on their beauty. 

 

He is an intelligent boy.  He received nearly perfect marks this year in school.  His penmanship was his weakest subject, but then no one is perfect.  Besides, he tries very hard to write neater to please his parents.  His math scores were quite high and all the more impressive since his teacher moved him up a grade in both reading and arithmetic. 

 

He is a fun boy.  He enjoys life.  He likes to laugh.  He makes me laugh.  He lures me into his enjoyment of life. 

 

He is all boy.  He loves rocks and lives on his bike.  He finds sticks and metal chunks and dead bugs and I call it boy treasure.  He builds with Lego’s and hates “girlie-stuff.”

 

He is my boy.  I enjoy calling him “Son.”  I love opening my wallet to him when there is a bake sale at school.  I cherish hearing his voice, “Dad, can I sit on your lap?”  I love to smell his hair and hug him as he sits.  I thrill to hear, “I love you dad.”  Especially when I kiss him good night and rub my stubble on his cheek. 

 

My boy turns 7 tomorrow.  He wants pizza for his special supper.  He wants a harmonica and his grandparents got him one.  He wants a pocket knife and it is on my desk as I type awaiting grubby boy hands to fondle it.

 

As I write about my boy, I remember a man.  This man upon meeting me for the first (and only time) urged me to never take my children for granted.  He assured me that they grow up too quickly.  I never knew what personal tragedy caused him to urge a young father to live a different life.  But if you are reading this, THANK YOU!

 

I have still made some mistakes.  I have still spent some of my time in the wrong ways.  But, when I lost sight of my children’s needs, your voice whispered sweet sanity in my ears.  I spend time with them.  I spend time with my boy.

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