This boy. This one here. The one who first stole my heart. The first one they flopped up on my chest all limp and slippery and fresh. Those first eyes to look up into mine. The one who introduced me to 1 AM...and 3 AM...and so on and so forth. The one who taught me what love is. The one who decided I needed a LOT of training in patience. The one who played with my hair and would not go to sleep, or nurse, or drink a cup of water, or be comforted without playing with my hair. The one who spit up 6+ ounces on a regular basis. The boy who seemingly runs at top speed and appears not to have an off button. The one who adores sports. The one who loves to ride his bike--on the road, on mountain bike trails, over huge jumps. The loud one. The one who threw the worst tantrums I had ever seen in my life. Yeah, that boy.
That boy has grown up. He's the one who helps me when I go shopping. The one who holds his baby brother while I get ten minutes to myself to take a shower. The one whose little brother stops crying and stares into his eyes as though he holds the answers to all of life's questions. The one who snuggles with his little sisters on the couch. Who plays "Polly Pockets" to be nice to his littlest sister. He's the boy who prays for the lost to find their way to Christ each night. The one who sits on the couch and reads for hours on ends and begs for just "five more minutes!". The cautious one--you heard me right--he's cautious. Maybe not during a game, maybe not on his bike. But in things that he doesn't have control over--like roller coasters, Ferris wheels, jumping from heights--those things make him say things like "hey guys, this doesn't seem like a good idea!". The one who is the well behaved, quiet kid in the class. The one who gets embarrassed if a girl says hi to him in front of his baseball team. The one with the huge brown eyes. One of the ones who still holds my heart. He's taught me so much. A couple weeks ago he taught me fear. He fell off the play structure after school and landed on his head. We thought his back and neck had been hurt. Thankfully he was only very bruised and very sore. He had to be on limited activity for a week for concussion. He taught me thankfulness. I am so thankful for his life and health and soul. Thankful that he has trusted his all to his Lord and Saviour--and no matter what happens to him, I will get to share the glory of eternity with him. I love you, Ezra. You are that boy.