I'm Not Ready for James to turn Seven

I am not ready for James to turn seven.

But if I allow myself to be still for a moment.. to really absorb it all... I think I actually am.

Time moves quickly. That's no secret. In fact, it may be one of the few truths humanity can collectively agree on. But knowing time is fleeting and truly living like it is are two completely different universes. There are seasons where I catch myself praying for the next chapter, quietly waiting for the current one to pass. Then life gives me a moment to look back, and I find myself undone by the beauty of what God has been writing all along. A life I once only prayed would exist has become the one I'm living.

James is nothing short of a miracle. My rainbow baby. The child who arrived after season upon season of loss, carrying hope back into places I thought grief had claimed forever. Long before he changed the world around him, he rewrote the way I saw myself.

Sometimes I think about the woman who had just given birth to her first baby, carrying more anxiety than she had ever known. I wish I could sit beside her and whisper, "You're doing better than you think. Stay true to who you are. The opinions around you will be loud, but your love for your son will always speak louder."

I wish I could tell her that the little boy who was far too advanced for his own good, who struggled with sensory aversions, who was told he would likely never thrive in a traditional classroom or function the way other children did.. would one day walk into that very classroom with his peers. Not only would he belong there, but he'd become the child who notices the lonely one. The one who makes room for everyone. The one who shares his joy without hesitation and loves people with a heart so genuine it leaves you speechless.

No diagnosis ever measured the depth of who he is and will be.

We aren't meant to live looking backward, but every now and then, I think it's okay to turn around long enough to witness the faithfulness that carried us here. When I do, I realize something I never thought I'd be ready to say.

I am SO ready for my sweet boy to turn seven because he earned every bit of it. Not through perfection, but through courage. Through resilience. Through overcoming expectations that were never big enough to hold the story God was writing over his life.

Still, if time could slow down, even just a little, I would ask for longer mornings, slower afternoons, tighter hugs, and one more chance to memorize the little boy who made me a mother.

Because the greatest blessing has never been watching James grow up.

It's been growing alongside him.