For Whitney…we went to every concert and every church service when she was on the worship team, even if it meant listening to the same sermon four times in one weekend. We still listen when she sings and are amazed that she can do that.
For Tori…we listened to her stories and read her stories and bought journals and fountain pens and old, beat up books that became her dearest treasures. Today, we read the words she writes and are amazed that she can do that.
For Tess…we go slowly. Slowly on walks and to movies and shopping because she will want to stop and take a picture. Or seven. And then we look at them and are amazed that she can do that.
For Joe…we don’t know yet. We don’t know what he’ll love or be good at or long to do with his life. But we know, whatever it is, we sure want to be there. Because being a parent is a lot like opening a beautiful package to discover an incredible treasure waiting inside (and sometimes the treasure is cleverly-disguised by a milk mustache.)
So here’s to all the moms who freeze at football games and smile through middle school band concerts…to all the parents who still laugh at the same silly joke the seventh time it’s told and buy twelve rolls of fundraiser gift wrap when they don’t need any at all…to every dad who’s stayed up late to make sure his son is home safe or driven 23 miles out of his way so his girl will see a friendly face on a hard day at work: you are superheroes without the superpowers and that’s the hardest kind of hero to be. It’s amazing, really, the things we do for love.
Astounded by the great gifts of God,