It occurred to me today that there will be few occasions, if any, when I will take the arm of my son and walk the aisle as his date.

Tonight may have been my swan song.

When he was a child, many were the times when he would take my arm. His hands belonged to me then. They needed me, even cried out for me on a regular basis.But time has walked its own story, and it seems they need me less. I know better, but for a few moments this evening, I felt a familiar ache. It first surfaced on a similar occasion two years ago with his older brother.

Tonight, I was reminded, yet again, about the fragile nature of time’s existence and the incredible responsibility that God has given me to handle its truth. To be OK with the fact that seventeen years have breathed their witness and soon will require my letting them settle into a son’s memoir. A season that seems to have quickly passed without my notice.

One day soon, Colton’s arms will belong to another. That’s the way of a growing heart. But tonight was my night. Tonight was a moment to take hold and to hang on and to more fully understand that my mothering, coupled with a whole lot of God’s immeasurable grace, has grown him into a young man filled with strength and laughter and the tenderness of heaven.

Not all mothers will have such an occasion; thus, my grateful heart and my joy-filled thanks to my Father for allowing me the privilege of such a gift–

A walk down the aisle on the arm of my son.

A very good night, friends.

A stone of remembrance to carry in my pocket … my heart … for the rest of my days.

As always,

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