Words to a Small Boy

Dear Michael-

Not a day has gone by where I haven't imagined your brown eyes and that infectious smile. I have thought of you every day since I last saw you-- snoozing away in your new homemade pac'n'play in your home in Limbe. 

Long after you've gone, you still have this way of changing me.

I miss the sound of your laughter. The memory of our sensory play afternoons is never more than a breath away. The zip-up footie pajamas I walk past in Target never fail to make me pause, remembering you. You are a fond memory- one that pierces to the heart of me. 

One year ago, I watched you stand. 

Today I find myself miles from you. Yet I spend my days loving on another precious boy who reminds me every bit of you and the things I dream for you. So many dreams in one single day-- the dream to watch you blossom and grow, the dream to see you walk, the dream for you eat more than rice and spaghetti and oatmeal, the dream to see you thrive. 

In me you ignited a spark that lit so many hopes and dreams. In me you planted a fearless hope, to believe our God still does the impossible. In me you created this passion that floods my mind at night and consumes more and more pieces of me. 

You have given me a most precious gift. 

I'm finding the will of God it be a most puzzling place these days. I often feel like I am Abraham on Mount Moriah. But I am learning to trust in these heartbreaking and puzzling plans our God unfolds. For He is good. 

My arms ache to feel the weight of you in them, to kiss your cheeks and trace the lines in your face and whisper the ways you are so precious to the One who made you.

Until then,

All my love,

Anna

a letter to a small boy

Every day I pray you know how precious you are. Hear me loud and hear me clear: you have been fearfully and wonderfully made. Your Creator made no mistake when he shaped your infectious giggle, created that mischievous, knowing look in your big brown eyes, and formed your delicate fingers that weave themselves between my own. If you believe nothing else, believe this: you are a gift. Knowing you has been the greatest honor. 

You are amazing. In three months you taught me more than any university or college degree ever could've. Every toy grasped, every spin on your mats, every afternoon spent balancing on that yoga ball, all the times you practiced standing tall, I saw your strength and determination (and stubbornness too). They run deep. Those moments I will cherish forever.

Did you know I fell head-over-heels in love with you? How could I not, with your charming smile and sweet heart? You had me wrapped about your fingers from the very start, and I've since to become untangled. Thank you for letting me enter your little world and for allowing me to love you so.

From you I learned so many things. You taught me success is not measured in tasks accomplished or goals completed. From you I learned a person's a person, no matter how small. Because of you I believe each and every life holds significance. You taught me to laugh, if only because it is a most beautiful sound. You taught me to start looking up -way above the treetops- a whole lot more. Through you I learned all things wonderful will take time, a lot of work, and often many tears. Because of you I now know giving up is never an option, even when 3 weeks in shows no progress. You taught me the worthiest of things call for incredible vulnerability. I also learned there's no shame in loving only 2 kinds of food. 

Perhaps the greatest lesson you've taught me is that I should believe more, because I serve a great and mighty God.

You made me feel inadequate on so many levels. You're the reason I stayed up late, pouring over massage therapy and sensory play books. I didn't know how to love you, or reach you, or do best by you. You made me aware, again and again, of the complete desperate and helpless mess I am when I'm on my own. And it led me to where I have always belong-- grappling at the feet of my Savior. Thank you for always leading me there.

Your culture has and will continue to label you many things. Sweet Michael, this is important: don't believe a single word their voices throw at you. The labels are ones that break my heart, because they are given out of such ignorance. How I wish they could see what I see. You are filled with such greatness, if only they would stop to really see you. Because you, dear one, are amazing. 

I have been forever ruined by you in a most beautiful way. I don't think you realize the depth of your impact on me. You see, because of you, I have been inspired to pursue an utterly crazy dream. Because of you, I now have plans. Plans to help little boys and little girls just like you, doing my part to be an advocate for the voiceless and a defender of their sweet innocence. It's an exciting mess of confusion and fear, and a lot of unknowns about the future. But when those moments rush like the incoming tide, I remember you… your tattered red overalls, those perfectly crooked teeth, that heart-melter of a smile, and the fears hush. You are my inspiration. 

The weak made strong, the voiceless defended, the oft-outcast finally understood, the hurt hearts healed, the weary ones given rest… can't you just see it, love? With every fiber of my being I long to do my part (whatever and wherever it may be) to make such a vision possible. 

Leaving you is shattering my heart into a thousand pieces; it will never be whole again. But the ache reminds me our days were real, and hold great significance. I know if your lips would speak, they would tell of how you want this too. So know that, while my feet may be leaving, my heart remains with you. And I refuse to believe this is the end for us.

I'm praying to see you stand. Two legs, strong and tall, unsupported. This is my dream. I cannot wait to see that day. And the day you run. Whether it's 5 months, 5 years, or an eternity from now, my heart eagerly anticipates it. And while the statistics and early intervention books and all logic scream no, I will choose to whisper yes. I will believe, for you and for me. And one day, we will stand tall. 

All my love, 
Anna