He is proof of clocks and calendars. He is the second-hand of time. His face changes by the minute, his heart is bigger and wider. His legs are fuzzier than they used to be. His mouth quickly turns from smile to smirk to puckered lips. He knows and spells words that used to be gibberish. He reads faster than we can keep up, and we find ourselves debating and discerning, wanting to keep him naive and fresh indefinitely before his brain discovers and his heart struggles with the mysteries of evil, trouble, and heartache.
And I give him up to You with every bowl of cereal.
Letting go...deep sigh...
ReplyDeleteif 9 is this hard, how on earth are we going to deal with the big 1-0? And by "we", I mean "you". And me. ha.
ReplyDelete