Dear Jack, Month 24

Dear Jack,

"New things that you do" have been plentiful this month. Moreso, new things that you say. With the exception of a few grammatical errors here and there, you carry on conversations like a regular person now. We have conversations about things you've done that day. We talk about Jesus. You sing songs. You ask questions. You make sure that everyone in the room knows what you're going to go do before you leave to do it. You're beginning to ask for things by saying, "May I please . . . " You're a little man.


We're starting to see the kind of person you're becoming, Jack. I don't think there's any two year old out there that is as encouraging as you are. When I'm taking "my turn" brushing your teeth you gag until I take the toothbrush out of your mouth just so you can say, "Good brushing, mommy!" When I sing to you at night, you say, "Good singing, mommy." There was a song on the radio on our way home last night that came to an end and you started clapping saying, "Good job, song! Good job!" I think that this tendency to encourage is something innate. I don't think we've taught you to be that way as much as it is just a part of who you are. In all of the orneriness and trouble you give us sometimes, this is a sweet part of your heart that I hope stays in some way, shape or form


During my freshman year in college, I was trying to offer words of encouragement to an acquaintance/friend who was having a rough day. She looked at me and said, "You don't have to be the encouragement queen, you know." I wasn't exactly sure what she meant, but I took that to heart and worried that if I encouraged people too much, I'd be considered fake. I worried that no one would take me seriously. To this day, I still think about that comment and hesitate before offering words of encouragement. Don't let anyone discourage you from encouraging others. Don't let anyone discourage you from using a tendency that is so obviously God-given.


Two years ago around now, I was holding you and kissing you and staring at you in amazement. I couldn't believe that you were here. I couldn't believe that I was your mom.


We don't deserve you Jack. There is nothing we have ever done to deserve a kid as great as you are. Every day, even the rough days, you're a constant reminder of God's grace and the undeserved blessings He bestows on us.


Shortly before we put you to bed tonight, I held you for a while and smothered you with kisses (to which you responded by saying, "I got snot on you!") and stared at you for a brief moment in amazement. I still can't believe that we're lucky enough to have you here. And I still can't believe that I get to be your mom.

I love you so much,

Mama