Three.

3 years ago right now, I was in labor.  My water had broke, and I was desperately waiting for some sign of SERIOUS, PAINFUL labor.  Many hours, lots of pitocin, and a miracle dilation later, my little

Judah Nathan

was born.  

He was 7 lbs, 13 oz.  21 inches long.  And wow could he scream!  

I'll never forget the nurse handing him to me for the first time, and I was a mess, because he was all hooked up to tubes and oxygen, and he was so little, and he was mine...

And he was this perfect little warm bundle.

Now....he's a warm bundle of energy.  Not so perfect all the time, but sweet and kind, just like his Daddy.  The first to check on his sister when she cries, and always warning everyone of danger..."Be Careful Haddie, Careful...". 

He's wild and crazy, and all boy, as his cars crash together in a pile of salvage, and he sword fights imaginary beings (or not so imaginary), and he talks about football (where'd he get that?!), and runs everywhere he goes.

And last night, as I lay beside his bed, holding his little hand as he dropped off to sleep, I marveled. 

At how God creates from a single cells, and puts a little bit of me in my children, and a little bit of my soul mate, and a lot a bit of God.  

At how they grow and form, and their features take shape, and sometimes they're all their own, and sometimes they're borrowed. 

And then I felt a new little life kicking within.

God's greatest gifts start small, and keep growing...as we nurture and love and invest.

Happy Birthday little son of mine...your mama loves you so much...even though I don't ever quite know what to do with little boys.  And you can just bear with me, as I, by the grace of God, teach you to be a man...and you, teach me to parent.  

And I will savor the moments of grimy hands, and mud, the bicycle races, and tractors farming the living room floor.  

Because someday, Judah, you won't be MY boy anymore...you'll be someone else's.