God did not choose you, I chose you |
Trophy Case III God did not choose you, I chose you After a long day at work, we rushed home, anxious to see our baby boy. Watching him as he grows, crawling for the first time, making up the things he must be saying like, Dada, mama and I love you. Then one day unexpectedly he takes his first step, then another, soon he was running all over the house. “Well mommy it is time for gates and locks, we need to keep the house safe. How will I ever be able to keep up?” Each day something wonderfull happened, like the time he sat beside me on the couch and said, "I love you." My heart grew. My faith was growing; I felt little bit ashamed of myself thinking there was not a sacred power at work. Like a shower from heaven, our hearts grew the day our son looks up at us and professed his love. “Mommy, Daddy, God did not choose you, I chose you” The days become weeks, months, and then years. Raising a child will be the hardest thing we would ever love. From time to time, I ask myself, who am I to deserve such a gift? I could never imagine what he could do that would make us love him more than we do. Time seems to be in slow motion on a shooting star. Then the day came when my bride would say to me. “It’s time our boy sleeps in his own room in his own bed.” I don’t think I was ready to let go. My thoughts battled me like a champion prizefighter. How can we leave him on his own? What if something went wrong? My heart aches. That night as Taran put on his superhero pajamas, and slipped into his newly made bed, he looks up with a tiny bit of fear in his eyes. “Daddy I’m scared, will you sleep next to me, please?” ”Of course I will Taran, I love you bud, sweet dreams.” ”I love you too daddy.” Lying there, I was thinking of the happiness and joy we have shared and what the future has in store. It was as if time stopped that night, and this moment would forever be in my heart. Trying not to wake him, I moved as slow as I could, if I could just make it to side of the bed then tiptoe out of the room. Carefully I slid towards the side of the bed, and with one foot on the floor; the tiny voice I heard would forever change me. “Daddy, Daddy where are you going?” “Nowhere Taran … I was just getting comfortable.” As I lay back down, my heart grew. A child can evoke such an emotion with the slightest touch or gesture. Taran could grab you by the heartstrings and tug at your very sole. I wonder if others feel the way we do about the offspring, I am convinced that a person does not need to be blood related before you can love them unconditionally. With a smile that brightened even the cloudiest day, Taran woke in his usual great mood. Ran to the end of the hall, peaked around the corner and whispered. “Good morning mommy, good morning daddy I love you.” “Love you too buddy, are you hungry?” “YEP, I’m so hungry I could eat a din-a- bah-sore.” “Okay bud, wash your hands.” Like most Saturdays, Taran rushed through his morning meal, anxious to join me outside to work on our truck. Lying on tarp under our truck I worked without a worry on my mind. Like pickup sticks, tools are scattered along my side. Taran always found something to keep himself occupied. This Saturday was about to become another once in a lifetime memory. I slid out from under my truck the sunshine was blocked ever so slightly. Standing there was my bride; clasp in her hand was a cup of coffee. “Honey, I made you a cup of Jo. "where is Taran?” “He’s on the front porch playing with his big wheel.” After handing the cup to me she peered around the front of the truck. Her lips tightened as a smile emerged from the corner of her mouth. Turned back in my direction. Whispering, “Go get the camera, hurry.” Without a clue, I ran to get the camera. As I flew back around the corner to the front porch I thought to myself, this is going to be a classic. Two small legs protruding out from under the big wheel, gray plastic tools scattered about. As I snapped the photo, a small snort rumbled from my throat as I held back a laugh. My heart grew. |