My Boy,

I forget that the things that still shock me while living here will be normal for you, since this will be where you are raised.

Today I drove past a father on a motorcycle with his infant son.  I was again surprised that yet another father was not holding onto his helmetless son on their two-wheeled adventure.

Yet this sight made me realize that what is normal for me is not for others.  In my need for safety, I was looking at another parent as being careless and unprotecting while I’m sure they made it home safely, as many families do the same here every day.

My son, even now, before you are out of the womb, I want to shelter you.  I want to give you everything.  I want to protect you from harm.  However, I am reminded that the reason I started these letters to you is to remember that you are not mine.  Though I want to control and cling to safety and comfort, those are the things our God is trying to release from my grip.  He knows all things and He knows best.  He knows, my son, that I would not even be aware of such vices if I wasn’t removed from the land that I know.

My son, may you not fear.  May you remind me the same!  May you no seek only comfort and safety but walk in courage and strength in the unknown. Know, most of all, son, you are not alone.

My Little Man,

I hold you close to my heart as I know the blessing and miracle you are. Your dad and I have waited four long years, wondering if we would ever meet you.  Here you are, God’s miracle, without medical intervention, growing day by day.  I am reminded, though my heart has longed for you, that you are not mine.  It is not easy to do but I will promise to hold you loosely.

Fear. Control.  My dear son, these are two traits of mine that are being challenged more than ever.  The truth is, I’ve never truly had control but I certainly had the illusion of it, more so when I lived in my homeland.

You, my boy, will be born here.  My prayer is that you know immediately that you can control nothing.  You may be more aware of that before you can speak but you may quickly forget when you develop your strong will.   Yes, I need to prepare myself for that now, since your father and I are both blessed with the same will.  The point is, son, only our God is in control. May your faith in Him be BIG, my son.  May you walk in utter trust–knowing you have nothing to fear because He has you, more than I ever could.

When you know you have no control, you must fully trust.  With utter trust, you have nothing to fear.

My Dear Son,

Now, in these few mornings left of quiet and stillness before you come, I start each day with reading and reflecting.  Today, as I reflect on what I’d like to see change in my own life, I’d like to extend these few things to my prayer for you.  I pray that you might have a thick skin while developing a soft and kind heart.  I pray that you have a sense of humor and might laugh at life versus allow it to overwhelm you.  I pray that you would have flexibility and not hold to your own plans too tightly.  Most of all, I pray that you might pursue righteousness.  You will not be perfect.  You will make mistakes.  I’ll be the one pointing them out to you, because in my mind, there will be a “way” to do things.  Yet, at the end of the day, what I will want most for you is not that you fit into “my mold” but that you pursue righteousness.  The blessing is that each day we have the chance to practice who we want to be.  We won’t always get it right but we can practice together.

 

Dear Baby,

As we reach the halfway mark, waiting for your arrival, I’m reminded that time and life is precious.  There are no guarantees.  Most importantly, I’m learning that only God knows His plan for you, for us.  Which is why I’ve decided to start this series of letters to you, in case this is the only chance I get.

My dear son,

We confirmed at yesterday’s appointment that you are in fact, a son!  I love you very much already and pray that I have the chance to meet you and watch you grow.

Now is the time for me to warn you, so you have a heads up, though you will know us as “Parents,” “Mom,” Dad,” we are only human.  We don’t have all the answers.  We don’t have everything figured out.  We are learning as we go.  Therefore, I’m sure there often will be moments where you’ll swear you know more than we do.  I can promise you that I have a lot to learn and you may be the one reminding me so.  So be patient, son. Let’s agree, in this house, that we will show each other grace and forgiveness.

As sinful people, we will (more often than not) observe in one another, pride, anger, resentment, unkind words and bitterness.  Yet, my prayer is that we do not hide but rather admit our sin.  My prayer is that we don’t expect perfection in this house but rather demonstrate mercy and extend compassion.

Honestly, son, at this point, we’re not very good at this.  Yet, you are already being used by God to teach us brokenness, humility and selflessness.  Know, son, we are a work in progress.  May our Lord be glorified by the work He is doing in us right now.  And you’ll see, son, I’m a slow and stubborn learner.

In this house, may we have the courage to express and strength to release our fears to God and one another so that we might find wholeness.