11 years {his birthday & my celebration}

All my children’s birthdays are special. But, there’s just something about my first born’s birthday that makes it extra special.

On his birthday, 11 years ago, I became a mom. Life changed. I changed.

I could no longer hide behind the verbiage of selfless living. I was instantly confronted with my own flesh, my desire to serve myself and maintain control. All the sudden, I had a magnifying glass to my heart in the form of a just under 8 lb. baby.

My labor and delivery was nothing like I imagined it to be. My first week home was not what I imagined it to be. My mother came to stay with me during that first week; I remember standing at the door of our townhouse in tears as she left with this little baby in my arms. I looked down at him as he slept and thought, “Now what?”

Those first months were not what I imagined them to be. I had no idea the depth of feeling I could experience in mothering an infant. I had never known joy so strong to make my heart spill over or fear and worry and anxiety and insecurity so strong to make my heart ache even while I slept.

Everyday, God used this child to sanctify me, show me my own heart and then show me His. And, just when I started to feel like I could take a deep breath and could keep on with this thing called mothering, another little magnifying glass was on the way.

So, yeah, we are celebrating Evan on his birthday. He gets his door decorated, and he gets to open cards and unwrap gifts. Family members call and quickly ask for him; I’m just a conduit. Maybe he’ll never know that while I’m taking pictures of him and giving him the “You Are Special” plate, I’m also celebrating something us—what God has done in my life, in me and how he was the original conduit.