there are seasons in life where you learn really hard things. and some where you kind of coast through just existing. and still others where some sweetness happens. sometimes they're all mixed together in some form or another. and if you're like me, sometimes you don't even know which season you're in...
but for the last few weeks, at least, i've recognized some sweetness. not that there isn't any the rest of the time, but these days it's been a little more apparent.
brooks has entered a loving little phase. he calls me "sweet mommy" all the time, which is partly manipulative at times, but i don't actually care, because i adore being called sweet mommy. and i'm thankful that he doesn't know all the things that make me not a sweet mommy most of the time. he hugs a little tighter, actually throwing his arms around our necks; he's saying please and thank you and bless you and excuse me; and i think we are officially completely done with pull-ups for him, even at night, which is icing on this sweet little cake. he wants to snuggle, wants to be a policeman, and wants to be just like his daddy, all excellent aspirations. he's smart, super verbose, long-legged, and really funny. i just love being around him and continue to be surprised by what comes out of his mouth. his imagination grows daily, and his ability to play and laugh and have fun are so refreshing and beautiful to watch.
even more sweet is the incredible opportunity to see the Holy Spirit working in his heart. when he was in my belly and the sonographer told us he had a beautiful heart, i began praying that he would be sensitive to the Holy Spirit. that prayer has continued for me through his life thus far, and we regularly see the fruit of this tenderness and sensitivity. it started with questions about songs...his favorite is "i am not alone" by kari jobe. something about that song makes him perk up and pay attention, and he hadn't heard it many times before he began asking me about the lyrics. "why does she keep saying she isn't alone, mommy?" "what does redeemed mean?" "what does it mean when she says He goes before me?" and my answers brought more questions... "why does God love us so much?" "why doesn't He ever leave us?" i've been driving through tears more than once as his little heart was pricked by the Spirit, prompting these precious thoughts. i love hearing his sweet little voice singing praises to our God, even when he doesn't totally understand everything he's singing.
and then, as we lay in his bed the other night, snuggling, me trying to make it quick, him trying to drag it out, he asked me "mommy, why do i disobey?" i confess i was feeling lazy, so i tried to push him off, saying "oh, you just do.." knowing he deserved a better answer but just not feeling up to it. and then, as the Lord would have it, he asked again, more insistently, "but why do i disobey?" and we spent the next 15 minutes talking about sin and what it looks like in his life, what it looks like in my life, and what we're supposed to do about it. i know he's too young to wrap his head around all of that, but just the responsibility of trying to answer such important questions overwhelm me. i'm astounded at his capacity to listen, to question. it makes me love his little heart all the more, and yet it's scary to be accountable for growing, teaching, and molding this little heart. my prayer is that the Lord will continue to grow him and prod him in spite of my fumbling explanations, that i won't get in His way, and that i'll always have an answer for the hope that we have.
it's such a privilege to watch a child discover the Lord. brooks asks these things, prays these prayers, and i almost miss it. at dinner just two days ago, as he blessed our food, telling God how much he loves Him...even though he questions where God is, why we can't see Him, how He can hear us...he still believes enough to say that he loves Jesus. how often do i pray, telling God what i want, when i want it, and how i think it ought to come about, forgetting to just stop and tell Him how much i love Him. brooks thanking God for his toys, for his race track, and my cynical, sinful heart thinking "oh God doesn't care about that", and i'm so wrong. so wrong. i have zero doubts that our Lord stops and shushes everything and everyone when my little boy prays to Him. when anyone prays to Him. He rejoices at my son's love for Him, at his questions, and at his thankfulness. this child challenges my faith in ways i never thought possible, and i am better for it.
our lives are funnier, more joyful, and definitely more rich for loving this little boy. the one who randomly asks things like "do bugs sneeze?" (they do not) and my personal favorite, "do crabs and lobsters have penises?" (they do! two each!). he says he gets his questions from "the question door, when i'm sitting on the potty" although he couldn't show me exactly where the questions "just pop out". so we spend a lot of time on google, and i'm convicted about spending even more time in prayer, because i've got to be ready for his questions. the funny ones, the silly ones, but most importantly, the ones that really matter. if i'm not ready, i'll miss the sweetness. and i don't want to miss it. not ever.
