When I was a child, I spoke like a child,
I thought like a child,I reasoned like a child.
When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.
1 Corinthians 13:11
I knew this day was coming. It loomed on the distant horizon. In the last few months, it seems we have been rushing toward it. But yesterday it finally happened and I didn't know whether to laugh with joyous glee or to weep. As parents, we face little milestones all the time. Some are big and momentous like first steps, potty training, and beginning school. Some pass quietly by, hardly noticed, like no longer leaving on a nightlight or no longer being asked to help button up a coat.
I knew this one was coming though. Over the last 2 years, I told myself over and over; comforted myself in days of frustration that "this too shall pass". Days of walking by his room and seeing the little colored pieces scattered all over the floor. Nights of trying to walk pain free as I traversed in the dark across the minefield of his bedroom. Debates of "should I pick it up or just vacuum it up?" I just never realized that it would be an innocent question, a little casual conversation, that would have such an impact in the growing up process. Who knew that "What were you doing up in your room?" would lead to him asking to put them away. Asking to put up something he has played with almost everyday since he was a preschooler and asked for every Christmas since.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I haven't played with them in weeks."
He's right. His days are now filled with school, football, lacrosse, drawing, friends, youth group, and of course, like most teenage boys, video games. He'd rather spend an afternoon shooting his bb gun or
playing around with the lacrosse stick out in the yard. His creativity and imagination are coming from the end of a pencil these days as he draws and creates page after page.
So there I was last night, while the room was relatively clean and he was off with the youth group, packing up bright little pieces of plastic.
"Are you crying yet?" the voice of my husband came from downstairs.
No, not yet, not then. I think maybe I was too happy to see the mess of them gone. But in the stillness and the quiet of the night, I know I will mourn the loss of what this represents; that my little boy is growing up. He is moving on, becoming a man. It's as it should be. I don't want him to stay little forever, but I will miss that sweet child filled with wonder and innocence. But for now, it's time to look forward to the man he is becoming; to the world that is opening up for him; that the time spent building, creating, and dreaming will help him to not be limited by circumstances but to look for unlimited possibilities for his future. Most importantly, it's a time for me to stop and pray that God will use him and his life in a powerful way.
For now, the Legos are stored away next to the box of Star Wars action figures. Hours of building, creating, imagining, dreaming are up on a high shelf in his closet waiting for another generation to come along and enjoy the brief moment that is childhood.
Star Wars Legos for Will's 10th Birthday in 2007
