To My Almost Seven Year Old

Oh buddy. You'll be 7 years old tomorrow, which seems so big to me. But not to you, because tonight you seemed sad and I finally pulled it out of you that what you really want is to be 8 years old tomorrow, not 7. But I told you that I didn't want you skipping one day or season or year to get to the next one. I love seeing who you are becoming every day.

At times you are silly. You have a quiet but quick wit that is easily missed except by those who know you best. You have a strange aversion to the "th" sound and have been known to intentionally omit those letters from your spelling words. You catch me off guard with your funny expressions. The other day I heard a huge crash followed by the words, "At least my face is okay." You make me laugh every day.

You may be silly but you are also serious, and you've been that way since you were born. You have always been a thinker. You ask deep questions, like last night when you were trying to process what it means to be homeless. You want to know what to expect and get nervous in new situations. You are a numbers guy - from dates to temperatures to baseball stats, you love to know details and love to share interesting facts with me. 

You can be incredibly focused. You hiked 30 miles in the Grand Tetons this summer. You work out like a beast, as long as Toby Mac is playing in the background. You will play baseball with your dad for hours, and when you get focused you will not stop, even to the point of frustration. You have a tender heart and you worry when other people are upset.

You love music. You are learning to play the piano, and you listen to your radio every night. I am always hearing, "Mom, can you turn it up? I love this song," from the backseat. You are slow to get up in the morning and prefer to stay at home rather than rush out the door to get somewhere. You eat like a horse already, so I'm not sure what I'm going to do about that. 

You loved watching the Braves make it all the way to the World Series this year. Even in my sleep I hear the sound of a tennis ball bouncing against the glass door in the kitchen, and you are always asking me to choose the teams for your ongoing "kitchen series" baseball games. I'll miss that tennis ball knocking things off the counters one day.

Owen, I love that you want to learn. I love your laugh and your constant chatter. I love your tender heart. I've told you from before you were born that God has a good plan for your life. I've whispered over you for seven years now, "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified or discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."

You are growing in wisdom and grace, buddy. I can't wait to see what this year holds for you. Happy birthday, my almost-seven-year-old!

 

To My Almost Twelve Year Old

Claire-bear, you'll be 12 tomorrow. It doesn't seem right, and yet it seems exactly right. I have always called you #clairethefortyyearold, and it seems like you are just growing up into who you have always meant to be.

You are growing up into wisdom. You seek understanding and not just knowledge. You like to know the "why" behind things, and as always, it's hard to convince you to do something if you don't see the value in it - but if you are convinced, then nothing can stop you. A few months ago you and I were having a conversation about social media and how it was important to set limits, and we weren't exactly seeing eye to eye. So I invited you to watch "The Social Dilemma" documentary with your dad and me, and before we were ten minutes in, you asked us to pause it, went and found a blank notebook and a pen, and sat down on the couch ready to take notes. 3 nights, many pauses, and five handwritten pages later, you had enough to chew on and make some responsible decisions for yourself.

You are growing up into character. I see this in your sports - you put everything you have into whatever you are playing at the time. You threw yourself into tennis this summer, and just recently you placed in two USTA tournaments. We saw you play with more endurance and mental strength than ever in those tournaments. You also are playing middle school basketball this year, and even with an intense practice schedule you are always ready to give it your all. You have a grit and determination that I think is rare at your age. But you also care deeply about keeping your priorities straight. You are so careful not to allow your sports to interfere with your commitment to our local church, and I love that you think through these things yourself. I also love that you talk to me and ask my opinion. One of my favorite things is thinking through issues alongside you.

(P.S. This hat is ironic because you are the furthest thing from spoiled. But you do look really cute in it.)

You are growing up into compassion. Everyone trusts you to watch over the little ones at church or school or wherever we are. You recently got certified in CPR so that you would be a more qualified babysitter. You look for anyone who appears to feel left out and make a special effort to include them. At the school bake sale, you choose to spend your money wherever you feel someone has had less sales than the others. In September you organized and hosted a virtual fundraiser, "One Mile at a Time Against Childhood Cancer." You planned AK's entire birthday party last year, complete with a photo booth and outdoor games that fit her personality to a T. You still are the first to pick up on my sadness or frustration and offer words of encouragement.

Literally as I type this, your dad just ran through the house yelling because you beat him in a ping pong game. You are much like your dad in that you are always up for a little friendly competition. You still love to play the piano and guitar and I have even heard strains of some original songs floating from your room at times. You are the biggest cheerleader at your brother's baseball tournaments, and you and AK share excitement over the latest Adventures in Odyssey episodes. You are a peacemaker among your friends.

There is so much to love about you. I pray you will continue to grow in wisdom and character and compassion. I pray that you will do justice and love mercy and walk humbly with your God through these upcoming teenage years.

A friend recently told me, "I can see you and Claire becoming best friends over the next ten years." Nothing could make my heart happier. Happy birthday, my sweet almost-twelve-year-old!