You Say It's Your Birthday

Happy Birthday, Jackson! WHOOOOOO HOO!

I'm getting ready to write the obligatory i-love-my-kid birthday post, except that there's nothing obligatory about it.

May 2nd is actually one of my favorite days of the year because I get to celebrate one of my favorite people in the whole world. 

You.

It's as much fun--if not more--for me to watch you enjoy the day that is just for you. I love how you anticipate the streamers that will hang outside your door when you wake up. (You made us hang them, you know. Starting when you were two. And you make sure that we are ready for the Big Day each year.)

Even tonight, as I tucked you in, you pulled me close and whispered in my ear, "Can you hang the streamers outside my door tonight? And not the pink ones you used for Lilly."

I smiled and nodded and reassured you they would be there.

And I choked back tears because another year has gone by.

I've been looking at pictures of you all night--watching you grow up before my very eyes. And honestly, as quickly as I can look through these pictures is about as quickly as these last six years have passed by with a few blinks.

I love that your smile hasn't changed. It's the same open-mouthed grin you've been unable to hold back since you were "tiny." (Between long spells of crying, but I barely remember that. Actually, I remember the sleepless, collicky nights very vividly, but it hasn't changed my opinion of you. At all.)

You love to hear us tell how you were the biggest baby in the hospital. Nurses from all over came to check you out.

You wore three-to-six month-old clothing on your first day of life. And your dad and I swear there is still liquid metal in your veins.

But you are our gentle giant. 

You heart is as tender as anyone I've known.

Do you remember pirates? And cowboys? And The Wiggles? And Blue's Clues? And The Backyardigans? You've loved them all.

But Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader & Co. have allowed you to join the Rebel Alliance and there seems to be no turning back.

(Plus, you look really cute when you come to breakfast in your Jedi cloak.)
Remember when you used to ride a scooter with three wheels? 

But for your birthday this year we're buying you another, newer, bigger two-wheeler. How can that be?

You love your daddy to pieces. He is your hero, your coach, your playmate, your earthly picture of God the Father. (No pressure, B.) 

I think that someday you will attribute your love for blaring music and bad dance moves to him. Not to mention the heart of a servant that is already spilling out of him and pouring out of you each day.
I know you love your Mom, too. I should probably be teaching you the finer points of pipe-cleaner crafts, but I do think the love of video games will serve you well someday.

If not, we will still have each other. And the Wii.

Did you know I love to spend time with you? I'd probably never play soccer or basketball by myself. But with you? Nothing could be more fun.
Just so we're clear: You've never had actual hands. Paws, I tell you. Paws.

Jackson, when you were born, we prayed the same prayer Hannah prayed for Samuel. And we still pray it today:

"I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord." I Samuel 1:27-28

You are His. And you are mine. And I could just eat you up. Still.

I love you.