I was laying next to my son tonight in response to a request by him to snuggle him as he was falling asleep (a pretty frequent request of late....hmmmm...). In the dim twilight filtering in thru the curtains, I could see his profile. He's still a child, but his features are changing. His nose is beginning to lengthen. The front of his mouth is filled with his adult teeth.
He's in fourth grade. The boys and girls in his class are starting to separate along gender lines--inevitable, I know, but sad nonetheless. Girls, once dear friends of his, turn up their nose now at some of his conversations or desire to play soccer in the backyard. My husband and I are starting to talk about when and how much we begin to tell him about God's design for marriage. He is starting to hear more and more words that I don't really care for him to use. He's at the age of kids where they notice things about other kids that are "different" and pick on them. He and his brother seem to raise each other's ire more and more often.
I ponder these things. I do not think I will be able to protect him much longer from the hurts to his heart that all of us experience through later childhood years. I fear he may deliver some of those hurts, even, to others at some point.
I don't like it. Not one bit. Where is my 18-month-old with the messy hair and the juice stain on his shirt most in love with his toy trains?