Sweet Seven

Dear Gabe,

It’s ridiculous how you’ve grown without me even really noticing. Then one day you turn 7 and I look back and can’t remember nearly enough of all the in between moments. But I remember some. I remember how you would monkey crawl all over the place. I remember how you’d fall asleep during dinner if you went without a nap. You got so excited when you would see Buzz Bightyear!

Seven years with you have been the sweetest. I just wish . . .

I never wanted to say those words as a mom. I remember when you were first born, and your brother wasn’t even two years old yet, I consciously decided that I would live in such a way that I wouldn’t regret or long for anything different. I haven’t done such a good job at that. But I encourage myself that you are not even halfway through with your time at home and there is still time for me to be the best mama to you. So what do I wish right now that I would do differently from now until you’re grown?

I wish that I would take time with the Lord every morning. Fervently. Whole-heartedly. I want to be full of Him—not just for you and your brothers, but for me. I am His daughter and I long for quiet, intimate time with Him. And I am confident that that would result in a sweeter, more patient, more gospel-powered mama for you.

I wish that you heard me praying for you more often. I wish I pulled you aside more often to take you before the Lord with me. I wish you were undoubtedly aware of the importance of knowing Him and having a relationship with Him.

I wish that I wasn’t so harsh with you. You are the more sensitive of all my boys, yet I speak to you the same way I do the others and I fear it breaks your spirit at times. Where I can be firm with the others, I must be gentler with you.

I wish I’d taught you to make cookies already. You’ve been requesting to learn for over four months and for whatever lame reason, I haven’t taught you yet. Let’s do it. This week. Because I love you.

Yes, your mama fails you often, but you still squeeze my hand three times whenever you hold it. (You still hold my hand!) You still give me cute winks, kisses when you get out of the van for school, and sudden outbursts of “I love you more than you think!”

Thank you for loving me so well, Gabe. You have been a blessing to me from the first day I felt you kick inside of me. You are so precious to me. You are so precious to your Maker. I pray that as you work toward year eight, you will know Him better. I pray that the gospel will come alive in your heart as you continue to learn it with your head. I pray you know Him. I pray that I will be a faithful picture of Jesus to you.

I love you more than you think,

Mama

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