To Read on the Journey

Friday, May 8, 2015

Seventeen

Noah, 

And just like that you're seventeen.

You know how when you watch the sand fall through an hourglass and it gets toward the end of the hour, and the sand, though it continues to move at the same speed, suddenly seems to zip through... that's what seventeen feels like. It feels like I'm almost out of sand.

And I want more sand...more time, with you.

I want more "hold yous." 

And more wrestling matches with daddy.

I want more running circles around the couches.


 And more forts in the living room.

I want more Blue's Clues (a.k.a "Luda Lu"). I never thought I'd miss that yappy dog.

I want a lot more of "the look." You know the one I'm talking about.   

I want more starting our days singing "This is the day that the LORD has made" at the kitchen table, followed by endless hours of home schooling. 

I'm even open to more moments of you antagonizing your sisters.

I want to find you again and again with your nose in your books. 

 And I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I even want more tripping over Legos.
 
 

If more time equals more driving taxi, than I'm totally up for it. Besides, some of our sweetest conversations have taken place in the getting from one place to another. 

I want more dinner times. It's the part of our everyday that I look forward to most- the five of us, together, serious and silly, sharing all our stuff.   

I'll even take more of your complaining about having to eat zucchini.


And If more time includes more arguing, I'll take it too, because though butting heads is ugly at the time, on the other side of it I can see how our rough patches are making each of us better.

I'll take a whole lot more of listening to you play your guitars.. even if it is at 7:30 a.m., before I've had my coffee.

And if more time requires I listen to your Pink Floyd records, than it's a deal.

 I want more more more watching you adore your sisters.  You have cherished them well.  You've blessed them with your words, your care, and affection (Your future wife and daughters are gonna get quiet a catch in you!)  




In your hug is without question my most favorite place to be. Your name means "rest, peace, not broken; made whole." And in your strong arms, Noah, I have that rest. I want more rest.

I want more "How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You." Noah, you are every word of that song. Bear, you absolutely "brighten up for me all of my days with a love so sweet, in so many ways."  

 
I want many more bike rides in Yosemite, family hikes, and days on Bass Lake. You are in your element in the great outdoors, and I want more of seeing you in your element.



I want more of your words- more of the way the Spirit in you discerns things. I want to be impacted by more of your wisdom, your understanding, your grace.
 

I want more waking up to find you and your dad together reading your Bibles. And more overhearing you two as you quietly share what you're learning about the LORD our God.  

I need more of your wit.

And more "I love you Mommy Bear." 

More hearing you whisper "Jesus" when you kiss me goodnight or as you head out the door. 

Noah, I want more of all you are always always always with me. 
I want more sand.