To my 12 year old son

Dear Evan,
Do you feel old? I remember being 12 years old. I thought my mom and dad were so old. You probably do too…and…maybe we sort of are. I mean, we’ve been parents for 12 years now! That alone makes us old.

First-born children have a very important job. You teach us how to do this parenting thing. All I learned about getting up at night with a baby, I learned from you. All I learned about the correct behavior at library story times, how to teach someone to pump their legs on a swing, how to relate to teachers, how to do multiplication (apparently, I did not learn it the right away when I was your age), how to draw robots and spaceships, and how to explain God to a child, I learned from you.

I know I don’t always get it right, but you’re a pretty good teacher. Thanks for being patient with us and for forging the way for the others coming up behind you. They don’t thank you for it, I know. But, I am.

Evan—it mean’s God is gracious—and He was when He gave you to us at the perfect time, just when I thought my dream of a being a mom might never come true. God is gracious—and He is, everyday, as you grow in stature and wisdom and we grow as your parents.

Happy birthday, Evan Miles.