His Heart

It’s late, and Caleb should be asleep, but instead he’s awake and in our bed, curled up in my arms. We talk about his day, and about the difference between a beard and a moustache, and about pizza. He’s so little in my arms, and getting so much bigger each day.

Sometimes I see him as he will become, and I’m excited about the life he’ll live, and sad that one day he’ll leave us. I feel in those moments the fiercest love, so strong that sometimes it makes me cry, like now. I wipe my eyes, because he wouldn’t understand how tears can come from happiness and sadness all mixed together in a good way, in a way that makes you understand in your heart, maybe for only a few seconds, how only a few things in life are important at all, and how vastly important those few things are.

“I’ve got to go to the doctor,” he says, “so he can see if I have Jesus in my heart.”

“I believe Jesus is there.”

“Yeah.” A smile. A hug around my neck. “Sometimes my heart is broken.”

“It is?”

“Yes, but then Jesus makes it all better again.”

Mine too, little man.

Comments

  1. Kevin Holtsberry

    I insist you stop telling stories like this, I mean I can’t be seen with tears in my eyes. For Pete’s sake man, I have a reputation to uphold! I am going to go drink some beer and talk about sports now . . .

  2. MarcV

    Those heart moments are treasure stored in Heaven. How He blesses us so richly I’ll never understand. I will praise the Lord for the moments he gives me with my son as well.

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