A Note From My Son

I received the hand-written note in the middle of brunch. Gathered around the table with friends and family, my son plopped the note into my lap. With a happy grin and light feet, he dropped and ran.

Looking down on this little treasure, I noted the properly placed stamp for left-handers and the letters on the front that indicted my name.

“jsaka”

“Jessica.”

Opening the letter, I found a sweetly drawn envelope, complete with the words “Pos Dofis” on the front.

It was from the “Post Office.”

And then penned at the very top were some of the sweetest words my soul could have received at a Saturday morning brunch.

Surrounded by waffles and syrup, berries and bacon, I read the following words:

“You r min sunshin.” 

“You are mine sunshine.”

Immediately, my heart skipped a mama beat.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in hand, I knew I would never discard this note. NEVER.

Tucking the note in my purse, I vowed it would become my forever bookmark, keeping track of the place where I begin and end my words in all the pages I read. Because though I love to read all kinds of words, spoken by all kinds of souls, those are some of the sweetest.

“You r min sunshine.” 

And as I have opened and shut my current book with that awkwardly-folded note placed in the middle of the pages, I have mulled over the dearness of that love-filled note.

Why?

Because there were many gray clouds omitted and many rain drops removed. 

He didn’t mention the moments when I lose my temper and snap at the stupid, and he didn’t mention the moments when I get consumed with what I’m doing, neglecting his long-winded explanations about Legos and war-hatched plans.

He didn’t mention the moments when I’m inpatient with his littleness and bothered by his repeated mistakes.

He didn’t mention the moments when I rebuke his sin or discipline his unkind behavior.

He didn’t mention the moments when I’m physically gone, and he didn’t mention the moments when I’m emotionally M.I.A.

He didn’t mention the moments when I hide in the bathroom for peace and quiet, and he didn’t mention the moments when I lose my cool over teaching sight words.

He didn’t mention the moments when I’m disrespectful to his father, and he didn’t mention the moments when I pick on the petty and fret over the frivolous.

He didn’t mention the moments when I talk the talk but don’t walk the walk, and he didn’t mention the moments when I’m hurried and worried about the fleeting and insignificant.

He didn’t mention the moments when I decline his invitation to play, and he didn’t mention the moments when I expect too much of his little self.

He didn’t mention the moments when I tire of helping, and he didn’t mention the moments when I do a shoddy job of dealing with the frustrating.

He didn’t mention the moments when I fail and fall short, and he didn’t mention the moments when I miss the mark and miss the boat.

He didn’t mention all the many moments when my sun doesn’t shine and my light doesn’t glow.

Not at all.

To him, my glow is warm and my light is love.

To him, my rays outshine my dark.

To him, I am special and worthy because I am his.

And if there’s one thing I need to remember as I walk this gritty life of motherhood with all its bumps and bruises, flaws and falls, it’s this:

I don’t have to be perfect to shine, and I don’t have to be flawless to glow. 

And neither do you, Mama. Neither do you.

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2 thoughts on “A Note From My Son

  1. What a precious son (and daughter) God has blessed you with Jessica❣ I dearly love all that you share in your blog ❤️. May God bless your family always ❣🙏

    Sent from my iPad

    >

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