There, you would be called 11-years-old, because that's how they do it there. In the morning, we talked about the day of your birth. I told you if I'd been there, I'd have taken your tiny little three pound, 9-week premature self in my arms, and held you, and sung to you, and cared for you until you were strong enough to leave the hospital. You interrupted to tell me, "I was restored," and we marveled together for a few moments at how God has indeed restored you. You thought of one of your older brothers, also born sick and early, and told me how he was restored as well. Indeed.
You wish you knew how to speak Korean still, and reminded me that you had only lived there a short while, and have forgotten what you knew; you wondered aloud what it would be like to live there. I wonder with you, and I imagine you there, my boy who loves maps and roads and bridges and trains - I think of you in Seoul surrounded by city sights and sounds, and I imagine the drawings you'd make. We will go there together one day. For now, we honor the people and the place that gave you life and shared with us the privilege of parenting you. This mama's heart was wrapped around your small finger from the first moment I saw you - a tiny, teeny little two-and-a-half-year-old with beautiful eyes, hungry for love and eager to please.
You are bigger now - so very much bigger! You grew six inches that first year home and you still love to look at the marks on the wall - that monument to what belonging can do. You know how to get everywhere you have ever been, and it was your voice, from the very back of the van, that got us home from brother's rowing race this weekend as you remembered the route Dad had taken the week before. You are gentle and kind, a patient guide to smaller children. We sit amazed as you play the piano pieces you've memorized, and we remember the tiny little boy who had no words all those years ago.
You are a keeper of tradition, and were up at the crack of dawn yesterday, eagerly mapping out the day - this exciting birthday. At dinner time, dear friends, unexpectedly in town for a visit after a recent move to Kentucky, helped you celebrate with pizza and cake and song.
Happy Birthday, wonderful son! We are so privileged to share it, and all of life, with you.
Giving thanks for this precious gift, and
Trusting in Him,
Aimee
