In the blink of an eye he's in that fragile place: stuck between boy and man. Floundering, falling, finding his wings, and sooner than I want, he'll fly away.
I oftentimes take for granted being home with them after school. More than I'd like to admit it's a hustle of homework and nagging and fighting and noise.
But what if it wasn't? What if I put intention into welcoming them home. The place they find comfort and refuge from the difficulties of growing up. What if I take him and his brother under my mama wing and offer a soft place to land?
That's the desire of my heart. To be their safe place, to lay my selfish desires aside and simply mother them. With intent and selflessness and plain old, love.
Ready? Go time.
