My Boy

I remember the day Josh was born. I was excited to be a dad. I was so completely in love with my sweet pregnant wife. Her strength and courage amazed me. (And they still do, by the way.) In the synapses of my brain, the realization that life would never be the same had materialized. But it was still a bit hazy. I knew we had much still to learn as first-time parents. In my youthful exuberance, none of that seemed to matter.

As the labor grew more and more intense, I knew the time was growing nearer when I would come face to face with my own child. However, nothing could have prepared me for that moment.

As they wrapped Josh up and handed him to Janet, I cannot describe the feeling that washed over me. A boy. My boy. A connection to God's plan. Something that reached so completely beyond that place, that moment. It reached into eternity. Father to son.

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Last week, as I sat restlessly at work knowing that Josh's mission call was waiting at home, images of Josh as a little boy kept flashing through my mind. Soccer games. His first Primary talk. Days at the lake. Road trips. Skinned knees. Birthdays and family parties.

So many shared moments. Moments woven together by that connection that began the day he was born.

When Josh arrived home and got out of his car, I was struck by the man my boy had become.

It didn't really matter what words were printed on the letter that he opened that night. There was that sweet assurance of my boy's place in God's plan. A trust in God's loving hands and His gentle ways of shaping and guiding our lives.

He read the words. A call from a prophet.

I felt again a moment that reached beyond that time and place. A connection to eternity.