A Letter To My Grown Son

Sometimes you wonder, did I raise him right? Did I teach him well?  When no one is looking, does he do the right thing?  This child of mine whose room is a wreck, who sometimes sleeps until noon, whose hair needs a little work. The child who stays up too late, leaves the milk out, who's mischievous grin means you've just been pranked.

That one who always carries his phone but doesn't always answer your texts, who leaves all the lights on when he leaves for work, the one who "is a grown-up now, MOM…."

Yes, son, yes you are.  

When you told me what you did, I was a little shocked, and thankful nothing bad had happened.  You are too young to see the danger, but what you saw was more.  

You saw a man in the rain, curled up in the corner against a building.  You didn't look away like I do.  You didn't make assumptions. You saw his suffering. You talked to him, found out his story, you took him in your car.  You gave him words of encouragement and drove him to a hotel. You put him up for a night with the small amount of money a college kid has. 

You saw him.

Maybe all that man needed was to be heard, to feel that he mattered, to truly be seen. You showed him compassion. You looked into his eyes and didn't turn away.  You saw a worthy soul despite his dirty exterior.

The years have made me callous and I wince when I think that I probably would have kept on walking. Been afraid even. Sizing up his situation without even hearing his one word.  Even with my flawed example, you have flourished and I am proud. 

'Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.’

You saw him.

Yes, you are now grown, my son with the pure heart.

And I truly see you. 

Don't tell him, but this kid has Elizabeth wrapped around his finger.

Love you guys!  

Love,

Elizabeth

What I Want You To Know...

When you enter the blogging world, you are given all sort of advice. Two things that stuck out to me were that you must know who you are writing to and what your central message is.  

I knew I wanted to write to you.

Because here I am in my 40s and my inner voice is sometimes still not nice to me and I wondered if yours sometimes isn't either? For those of you trying so stinking hard to make a house a home, who sometimes doesn't think she (or he!) is good enough but who really is. Who is so many things to so many people but forgets to treat herself like she is worthy of anything special.  I wanted to remind you that you are worthy, you may have just forgotten.

Maybe you never even knew.

I'm writing to you.

I want you to be uplifted, inspired, to laugh with me, to cry with me. But most of all, I want to give you hope.  Hope because you saw this crazy lady on the internet who runs around with a little white dog and likes to try to decorate but seems to fail a lot. Who is the Lucy to her Desi. Who sometimes loses her temper with her kids and occasionally burns dinner. Who is late and whose car is a hot mess.  

I want you to have hope because if you continue to struggle as I do and as I did, know that there's a whole league of us out here with the same exact struggles. The same exact flaws. We can band together because God made us all the same.

None of us were made less than.

Not one...

That ten pounds here and there doesn't make you ugly. You are beautiful. You are.

If you burn dinner, you know we all love a good PB&J.

When your kids are mad because you don't act like so-and-so's mom, it's a good thing because that kid turned out to be wild as a buck. 

The laundry. The chores...the rotation that never ends that is exhausting....but thank God, you have a family.

And if your struggles are bigger, and weigh on you more than these... 

Know that some of your struggles won't last forever.

And know that some of your struggles will not go away but one day you look up from your burden and realize you have learned to cope. It hasn't changed, but you have.

You are fearfully and wonderfully made.  I pray for you, we are in this together.  I will continue to display my fails and weaknesses only to show you, you are not alone.

But most importantly, despite our fails...

LET US NOT FORGET OUR VICTORIES.

Thank you for being the most wonderful readers, you are the best.

Love,

Elizabeth

Clearly, Elizabeth is a little emotional this week, but I know that she meant every word.