Tomorrow, we’ll go to the chapel and begin to decorate. A week from today, we’ll watch our son marry the love of his life in that chapel where they each celebrated kindergarten graduation and 8th grade graduation just a moment ago. I’m sure it was just a moment ago.

Bo was our little orange haired bull dozer who used to plow through any obstacle in his way, falling and bouncing back up, time and time again. He sported scars and bruises like badges of honor for living life with gusto. We thought that meant we would be frequent flyers in the E.R. as he grew older, but praise the Lord that did not end up being the case. He was exciting, and fun, and challenging…just a moment ago.

Just a moment ago, he carried tiny imaginary monkeys in his three-year-old hands for several hours after playing with friends. He was so committed to caring for them that he even refused to catch himself with his hands when he fell down. His arms took the brunt of the fall while the monkeys remained safely in his upturned palms. We thought they might disappear once he fell asleep that night, but to our surprise, he woke up the next morning with the monkeys still safely in his hands. His imagination was powerful and wild  – just a moment ago.

He proclaimed his love for play and his disdain for work, assuring us that he would NEVER grow up…never get married…ew! Yuck! He wanted to stay a kid forever – wise elementary boy that he was. He KNEW he had the good life and he had no interest in rushing through the freedom of  it to get to some awful thing called adulthood.  Our “Peter Pan” we called him…just a moment ago. He promised to not grow up.

Just a moment ago, a church member approached me, holding back giggles, to ask if I knew what Bo had been doing during church. She proceeded to describe him repeatedly running his tongue along the back of the church pew and down the arm of it while we listened to the sermon, blissfully unaware. Just a moment ago, he gnawed the edge of his top bunk so badly that he lost the privilege of sleeping up there…and he demonstrated for me the process of shredding his school pencils by merely ripping the metal casing beneath the eraser with his teeth and chewing on the blunt end until it frayed. Just a moment ago, our sensory seeking boy asked to put cool mud in his armpits after a family walk along a trail. Just a moment ago, he laid – prone – on the concrete after disembarking from an amusement park ride – oblivious to the crowds around him – just because he wanted to see what it felt like. Just a moment ago, I attempted to hold him still while he was telling me a story so I wouldn’t get motion sick watching him spin in circles. He silently stood still for as long as he could handle it and then, bug-eyed, broke free proclaiming – I CAN’T THINK THAT WAY! I laughed at the funny way God made him – like a wind-up toy…and shared a knowing wink with my husband as we grinned at our animated storyteller – just a moment ago.

Just a moment ago, he found a new kind of freedom exploring the world (our small town) on bikes with his best friends. On the brink of the teen years, their old dreams of building a box with wheels to drive themselves to Arkansas had morphed into something more mature…more noble…riding all over this town looking for adventures like the ones his friend’s dad had as a teen.  He was still a long way from growing up and couldn’t imagine feeling the need to drive a car. Where could he POSSIBLY go in a car that he couldn’t go on a bike? Dreams of adulthood were still far away, yet these childhood buddies rode on – seeking stories to tell their own future children.

He drove away for the first time in a car…all by himself – just a moment ago. He later shared that in the isolation of the vehicle, he let out a celebratory scream as he rolled down the road. It turned out that he DID have a desire to drive on more than two wheels  -a new step in his lifelong pursuit of freedom.

Just a moment ago, he sat in my empty classroom sharing about his friends and their fun adventures. Their recent addition of girls to their friend group was proving to be cooler than he expected and before the conversation ended, he had begrudgingly admitted his crush to me and pleaded with me not to embarrass him. I didn’t even know he had the ability to feel embarrassment. 🙂

Where has the time gone?? Our lives are not measured by time…they are measured by moments, and just a moment ago, it seemed like we had a lot of time. 

If you’re in the moment right now where you feel like you have time, HOLD ON. (Don’t hold on to the child in motion – the law of inertia is STRONG in a free spirited boy – but hold on to the MOMENT.) Hold on to the imaginary monkeys and the funny stories, hold on to childhood and the thrill of freedom, hold on to the firsts and the lasts, the weeping and the laughter, heartfelt confessions and apologies, hugs and high fives, the trials and joys, quiet conversations and loud laughter. Hold on to your child’s heart and God’s hand  – knowing that someday he’ll give his heart to that girl you’ve been praying for…and the moments that follow will far exceed his Peter Pan dreams.

A week from today, we’re goin’ to the chapel and they’re gonna get married. I’ll miss my orange-haired bull dozer spinning around the kitchen telling me animated stories daily. I’ll miss his humor, his hugs, and his friendship. I’ll miss our long conversations and short disagreements and all of the moments that have come and gone, and I’m sure I’ll cry as much as I’ll smile as the memories play through my mind. But as much as I’ll miss him, I’m also incredibly grateful for the sweet girl he’s chosen to spend his life with and thrilled for them to experience the gift of a loving marriage. 

A week from today, they’ll say I do…and then just a moment after that, they’ll tell the story of that day to their grandkids.