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It was his first day of daycare.  He had a great time.

Blocks

Fingerpaints

Storybooks

Snacks

As we left his teacher pointed out his folder.

A shiny, red folder.

Shiny

Red

Gleaming

Inside the folder held his work for the day and a note from his teacher.

He didn’t care what was inside.  He only cared about the folder.  He wanted to take the folder home with him.

But the folder is supposed to remain.  He didn’t like that.

And he made sure everyone in the building knew of his disagreement.  Everyone.

The next day the first thing he checked upon entering his classroom was his shiny red folder.  There it sat.

Shiny

Red

We talked about how the folder was here waiting for him.  And how it will stay here again when he leaves.  We agreed that we will take the papers within home with us, but the folder will sleep here again.  In his classroom.  He consented.

Departure was a breeze that afternoon.  He exited the building with a broad smile on his face.

Clutching his shiny red folder.

Dangling from mom’s back pocket hangs a white flag of surrender.

I woke up this morning with a sense of sober fear.  As a children’s pastor I spend much of my mental energy thinking of opportunities and creative ways to equip parents for the journey of teaching their kids how to love & serve Jesus.

But this morning all I could think about is that my oldest is 10 years old.

To many of my readers this might seem like a small thing.  I’m clearly a young mom.  I never define myself otherwise.  But the truth is… the clock is ticking.  I’ve got less time with him before he moves out of my house.  The season where my influence is greater than the influence of his friends is coming to an end fast.

The last 10 years of my life have gone fast.  The pace of the next 10  years will be no different.

Yet as I write this post there is a sense of excitement and hope.  He’s 10 years old.  He can understand things his younger siblings cannot.  He can chew on spiritual truths and internalize them on a deeper level.  That’s exciting to me.

Sometimes I watch him as he processes things like why a homeless man would choose to spend money on alcohol instead of a place to stay.  Why a country would make Christianity illegal.  How a kid on the other side of the country could enjoy life in a home with dirt floors, no toilet and livestock walking around.

I want to have more of these conversations.  I’m praying for more of these interactions.

As a ministry leader I confess that I’ve had my share of moments where the ministry has superseded my role as mom.  Many opportunities for time with my son were lost due to ministry demands or just plain fatigue.  I’ve not done this perfectly.

But my hope is in the Author of great relationships.  And my prayer for the next 10 years is that He would keep my eyes focused on the opportunities ahead.  That I would maximize those opportunities and continue to foster a relationship with my son that is a source of refuge, encouragement, guidance & love.

I want him to love & serve Jesus with more passion than I ever thought possible.

It cracks me up to hear the stories my kids tell each other.  Makes me curious about the conversations they have with their friends.

Josie was diagnosed with a bladder infection last night.  Not uncommon for her.  This morning she told her brother that she couldn’t pick up the toy off the floor because she has to be careful how she bends her stomach.  She shared in intricate detail of the dangers of bending your stomach the wrong way when you have a bladder infection and the long term affects of such careless activities.

I can remember when I was 8 telling my friends that girls can’t do push-ups or their muscles would burst.  It sounded good at the time.

the stories kids tell…