Our boy and I… we are not so different.  We had the most precious conversation today about being scared.  Scared of love. I was happy to be able to share a story with him, a story about something that happened just a bit earlier in the day…

Tim and I had discussed mother’s day.  I had wanted to take off all pressure.  Tim gets anxious about any holiday or special day and I didn’t feel our boy needed any pressure about doing anything.  So when I was the first to get up and find a card and flowers I was a little surprised.  Tim was quick to follow me.  “What are you doing here?  You are supposed to be in bed.” “But why, we had said we weren’t doing anything, that is still quite alright with me” I replied.  But Tim insisted: “Just leave the kitchen, just go back to bed.”  I struggled and continued to make myself some tea and make Tim his coffee and our boy would be served with a wonderful caramel vanilla latte.  I realized it was a little silly, here I was spoiling my men on mother’s day, a day my husband now had chosen to spoil me.  I couldn’t let go.  And I didn’t.  I felt the tension about needing to listen to my husband and my own uncomfortable feelings.  See… there are times that it is still really hard for me to be loved.  I was trying to steal away this opportunity from him, just so I could feel comfortable, just so that I could be in control.

Our boy had another hard week and it caused him to apologized for that today.  He said it is hard to control his behavior at times.  He said he knows more and more that he is indeed in the right place but… it scares him and so he wants to get away, and difficult behavior is his way.

I asked him if he wanted to hear a story of that morning, of what I did.  When I was done confessing to him about my morning and my struggles he was quick to answer: “But that is how I feel, that is what I do!”  and for about half an hour we kept sharing back and forth about being scared, about why we are scared and how strange it is we do what we do.  I so know this match was made in heaven.  We are so right for our boy, he is so right for us, I am so right for him.  Not just because of my past, but it certainly is part of God writing this story.  I may be a grown up, but some times I just act like our teenage boy.

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