Hijo...

Hoy es el cumpleaños de mi hijo. Él tiene cuatro años. No puedo creo que mi hijo tiene cuatro años. Oseas es muy inteligente y chitoso. Me amo mi hijo mucho. Le gustan leer libros y mirar la televisión. Espero hoy es un día bueno para él. ¡Feliz cumpleaños, Oseas!

Today, the son to whom God entrusted to me turns four-years-old. I cannot believe it. Mi hijo is four-years-old! Four years ago, I spent twelve hours in labor before the big push came to pass. Zay is healthy, smart, kind, and funny. He is thoughtful. He's an absolute Godsend.

Several months ago, he used to tell me all the time that he would never leave me. To which I would respond, "Yes, but if you do I understand." "It's okay to leave me, because at some point life will require that you must." I don't want Zay to be a momma's boy. I want him to be confident that he can be a man apart from me. 

Someday, Zay will have a wife. He will need to know how to lead her. How to be there for her. How to comfortably place her as the first lady of his life. In order to cleave to his wife...he must...he must leave me. If he never leaves me...then he will never learn how to cleave to his wife. So no, I don't want him to be a momma's boy, I need him to be a man. A strong man. For God, for his wife, and their family someday...

Although the day will surely come when I am no longer the first lady of Zay's life, it doesn't mean that I won't be rooting for him. No matter where he is. Or who he is with, I will always be rooting for the son to whom God has entrusted to me.