Delight In

Delight in me, he says with every "Look, Mom!"

And I want to.

I want to fully enjoy his presence without being on edge waiting for his next move.  I want to play with him without feeling like he's always only one misstep away from losing it.  I want to giggle at him and his brothers without leaning forward in anticipation of needing to separate them at any moment.  I want to enjoy a meal without the looming inevitability of a meltdown.  I want to start a morning cheerfully with no sign of the daily struggle to get dressed.  I want to ask him to help out and know that he gladly will.  I want to invite people over and be excited that he will have a chance to play with friends, not exhausted at the prospect of more misbehavior and timeouts.  I want to leave him at a sitter's with confidence that he will be respectful and obedient.

I want to love and like my son.

I want to remember that he is not only made up of all his struggles, meltdowns, tantrums, rudeness, timeouts, wildness, and disobedience.

Those things are abundant right now, but really they just get in the way of who he really is.

He is good and funny and smart and independent and helpful and fast and strong and energetic and curious and thoughtful and sensitive and handsome and lovable and organized and logical and excited and effervescent and loyal and creative hugable and awesome.

And created in the image of God.

And entrusted to me.

I want the good, great, and wonderful to way overshadow the battles.  I want the good, great, and wonderful to shape my attitude as I approach him.  I want the good, great, and wonderful to be the filter for my words.  I want the good, great, and wonderful to motivate my actions and choices.  I want the good, great, and wonderful to be reflected back to him so that he knows.  He needs to know that that is how I see him and that is how God sees him.  And that is who he is.