A Mother Counts Her Blessings

Every mother finds the growth and development of her child amazing. That's because it truly is. In the twinkling of an eye, in the flash of a moonbeam, a tiny baby becomes a man or woman, before we even know what happened. To show you just how quickly the time passes, I'm going to let you read a bit of my personal mail. This is a letter I wrote to my son, Steven, on the day I took him to get his driver's permit. I hope as you flip through the picture book of my memory, you'll see the days of mothering behind you and those yet to come, as a wonder and a blessing.

Dear Steven:

I crept into your room today as the sun was peeking over the horizon. A single ray of light reaches through the blinds and illuminates you angelic face like a lone actor on a stage. Two tiny fists frame your olive face as you snuggle peacefully under you yellow blanket.

A small head, capped with black busy hair. Long Bambi-like eye lashes. Perfectly formed cherub lips. A red forceps mark on you forehead. Knees curled and tucked under your tummy.

A mound of love that just three days before kicked my ribs and moved inside my tummy, now sleeps in a crib and moves my heart.

Yellow gingham bumper pads framed this picture of sweetness, tranquility and love. I drink in the scent of baby powder, fresh wipes, and lotion. The room overflows with toys: a Noah's Ark soft sculpted toy with ten bulging pockets carrying animals two-by-two, a bunny shaped rattle, a tinkling music box. Stuffed animals with bright satin bows huddled in a corner. A white wicker rocker beckons.

I stroked you head and watched you breath, finding my chest in sync with yours. Three days old. My precious gift from God. What journeys await our family of three?

I crept into your room today and thanked God for the wonder of you.

I crept into your room today before my little man awoke. In just a few minutes you'd be calling out in your two year old voice for Mommy and Daddy to get you out of your now too small crib for a little snuggle time before dad is off to work.

The black hair has been replaced with golden corn silk capping your precious head. Long thick eyelashes, now dubbed as "angel wings," rest on chubby cheeks.

The yellow blanket that once kept you warm now keeps you secure as you clutch it tightly to your side. Somehow your thumb has found its way to your mouth and I hear the sound of gentle sucking.

Big Bird and Ernie wait patiently for their little friend to stir. A train parked in the corner. A stick horse tethered to the doorknob. Rubber balls and wooden blocks rest in a basket. Pop up books, Richard Scarry, Lowly Worm, Busy People, Things that Go -- all familiar friends crowded on the bookshelf. Wooden puzzles, plastic trucks, cardboard tubes for jousting lie just where you dropped them. The well-worn wicker rocker that has become my favorite spot in the house.

I stroke you blond head and watch your gentle breathing, still amazed that so much love could be found in one small package.

I crept into your room today and thanked God for the wonder of you.

I crept into your room today on this your first day of school. In Superman pajamas, hugging a Teddy bear, you dreamed of new friends and adventure.

A new shiny red lunch box sits on the dresser. Stiff new jeans and a crisply striped knit shirt await you. A blue backpack stuffed with fresh crayons, markers, and wide-ruled notebook paper hangs from the doorknob.

Plastic swords, playmobile Indians, Nerf balls, a sheriff's badge, cowboy boots. All would be motionless this day. A T-ball trophy on the dresser, and a team picture of twelve miniature athletes trumpet your interest in sports.

I stroked your sandy blond head, and tears streamed down my cheeks. In just a few minutes, I'd be walking you down a sidewalk and entrusting my most valued possession into the hands of another woman. Will your teacher know that you were the most creative child that God has ever fashioned? Will she know that you already know your ABC's and can count to 100? Will she know that you had already asked Jesus to come into your heart and could recite the Lord's Prayer and Twenty-third Psalm?

Will she know that you need lots of hugs? Will she know that this was one of the hardest days of my life? Oh how I'm going to miss my little man today.

I crept into your room today and thanked God for the wonder of you.

I crept into your room today before the sun made its way into the morning sky. You, my little soldier, lay tangled in the sheets with Beary the white polar bear tucked under your arm. He was staring admiringly into his charges tranquil face.

The "cars and trucks" wallpaper has been replaced by plaids and coat-of-arms. Baseballs hats hang from the corners of your four-poster bed. Soccer pictures line the walls. A Boy Scout handbook and well-worn matchbox cars parked in a slotted carrying case litter the floor. Stray Legos peek from under the bed. G. I. Joe's back from their latest mission share a shelf with hard-to-part-with stuffed animals. A flashlight rests on The Chronicles of Narnia.

I stroked your head and wondered if you had any idea how much I have loved being your mom for these past ten years.

I crept into your room today and thanked God for the wonder of you.

I crept into your room today before the day was new. Breaking all the new rules of privacy and personal space, I gazed at my twelve-year-old young man with a sense of awe.

Michael Jordan grins at me from a poster taped on the closet door.

Muddy baseball pants hang over a chair. Inverted tube socks are wadded up and tossed in a corner. A CD player, headphones, magazines, deodorant, boxers, and fuzzy legs.

Five feet nine inches of muscle and bone - you are a man-child metamorphosing before my very eyes.

A school yearbook open to page 87 where Rosemary's smiling face had been the last thing on you mind. A new era was on the horizon. I whispered a prayer over your sleeping form as I rubbed you sandy head. A prayer of protection, purity, and purpose.

I crept into your room today and thanked God for the wonder of you.

I crept into your room today before the alarm signaled the dawn of a new day. Your six-foot frame lay angled across the mattress. A man's hairy leg peeks out from under the tangled sheet. Your face needs a shave. A muscular arm hugs a willing pillow.

The chubby cheeks and pug nose have been replaced with handsome, sharp angular lines. A strong jawbone. A determined nose. A thick shock of unruly hair.

A Geometry book leans against the dresser. Ribbons and plaques from races won proudly hang from the floor lamp arm. A rack of neckties and khakis mingle with T-shirts and jeans. A track team warm-up suit slung over a chair. A basketball letter and pin leans against the mirror. An electric guitar, amplifier, distorter, and Christian punk CD's shout out a new era. A TARHEELS license plate rests on an easel, pointing to future dreams.

My little boy has become a man - in the twinkling of an eye, in the flash of a moonbeam, in the time it takes a shooting star to traverse the night sky. I smooth your thick hair and watch your chest rise and fall. What a gift you have been to me. How will I ever let you go?

Today I drive you to the Department of Motor Vehicles to pick up your license to new freedoms. I go as a driver, but return as a passenger.

A tear escapes my eye and trickles down my chin as I am reminded once again that this chapter of my life is coming closer to an end.

I crept into your room today and thanked God for the wonder of you.

Sharon Jaynes is the Vice President of Proverbs 31 Ministries, Inc. and feature writer for their monthly magazine, P31 Woman. She is also the co-host for their daily radio program heard on over 900 radio outlets and conference speaker for women's events from coast to coast. Sharon is the author of several books including, Being a Great Mom - Raising Great Kids, Dreams of a Woman, Ultimate Makeover, Becoming a Woman who Listens to God, and A Woman's Secret to a Balanced Life. To learn more about Proverbs 31 Ministries, Sharon's books or having Sharon speak at your women's event, visit  www.proverbs31.org.

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