Grace

I was convinced this baby would be a girl.  My two baby girls were so sweet and everyone told me I would probably have a third this time around.  My mind was so prepared for another baby girl, that when the midwife announced, "It's a boy", my response was "No it isn't."  She held Will up high enough for me to see and all I could say was, "Wow! That really is a boy."

Will was born in the middle of winter.  The doctor told me to stay in with him for at least six weeks as  flu season was at it's peak and Will would be susceptible to the RSV virus.

Three babies.  Middle of winter.  Milk coming in.  Not a lot of sleep. Hormones that were raging.  A husband busy at work.  I don't have many happy memories of that time.   Honestly, I don't have many memories of that time at all.  In my state of post partumness, I hoped that love would cover over a multitude of sins.  Every time I put Will down or picked him up, I kissed his soft little head.  Despite everything that was going on with me during that time, I needed for Will to know that he was loved.

I got a letter in the mail yesterday.  Will wrote it at school and his teacher stuck in the mail for me.  This is how it read.

Dear Mom,
You are my hero because you always help me if I need it.  You also work hard every day so I can have food and clean clothes.  I would never be able to work that hard! You are also home every day after school so that I am not alone.  You do all that and you a have a real job to do.  You always make me feel safe.  You are my hero for many reasons.
From,
Will


As I read those words and let them soak in, all I felt was grace.  Grace. The love of a young boy who loves me more than I deserve.  Grace.  Thank you Lord for the gift of grace.

Don't you think that sweet head needs more kisses?