Letter to my Tuesday Boy

My dearest little man,

Yesterday I watched you from the door of the nursery, hiding myself from your line of vision so that you wouldn't notice me standing there. You were giving quite the monologue, chattering away to the ceiling as you lay there. You then began to clap your hands, watching, alert and fascinated, as those little hands of yours clapped together, then came apart, then clapped together, then came apart, over and over again. You separated your hands, turned to look at one hand, then turned to look at the other, then began to clap again. What an intelligent, alert little boy you are. I've never seen a child lie in their crib and interact with themselves like how you do.

You sat up, turned upsidedown on your head, and pushed your feet up on the side of the crib. That was when you saw me standing in the doorway, our eyes met and you tumbled out of headstand position, all a flurry to reach out those arms to me. Your eyes glowed and twinkled and crinkled and smiled. Indescribable noises of joy burbled and babbled from your sweet mouth. You started to bounce, up and down and up and down in your crib, and then you waved, and then you blew me a kiss, and then you started the whole process over again. I picked you up, and you instantly clung to me like a Koala bear, laughing all the time, looking into my eyes and then up the stairs we ran, up, up, up laughing together until we got to the balcony. You hold onto me for another five minutes, secure and safe and happy before you squirm down to go and play.

How can I tell you how much I love you? How can I tell you how amazing you are? How intelligent you've proved yourself to be? How fun to be around? How full of life and energy and life?

God has made you sheer wonderfulness and I marvel at his Image reflected in you each and every moment of each and every day. You have grown in leaps and bounds since August and I am so proud of you. I'm proud of all the words that you can now say, of how aware you have become of your surroundings, and of the way that you just started to point at your parents and say, “mama” and “papa”. Yesterday you even kissed their pictures, and it melted my heart. Your family looks wonderful and I am so thrilled at the prospect of your new life with them. They will love you and teach you the ways of the Lord and all will be well.

My prayer of many is found in Isaiah 61 – I pray that the Spirit of the Sovereign Lord will be upon you. I pray that you have purpose in life – purpose to preach good news to the poor, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion – to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. I pray that you will be an oak of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor.

You're home is in Michigan, my dearest little boy, and though parting with you will bring a torrent of tears, I know that it will not be nearly as hard to part with you as many of the others, because I hope with all of my heart to be reunited with you one day soon.

All my love,

Kathryn