Worry is not believing God will get it right,
and bitterness is believing God got it wrong.
- Tim Keller
I sat at the kitchen table going through a stack of mail when he quietly walked up and sat in the chair next to me.
"What's up, bud?", I asked, only briefly glancing at him before I continued ripping and sorting and stacking.
"I really want our new baby to be a brother, Mom."
I pushed the mail aside as I realized that his other brothers were busy playing Wii, the baby was sleeping, and he had found me at a time when he could have me alone.
I reached over and put my hand on his arm and looked into his pale blue eyes. "I know you do, bud."
His bottom lip began to quiver and his eyes filled with tears and I thought my heart was going to break into a million pieces at the sight of what was before me.
He continued on.
"I'm just afraid if she's a girl, she'll take my stuff. And, she won't like Batman. And, she won't want to play Wii with us. And, she won't want to build Legos. And, she won't think Captain Underpants is funny."
He paused and looked up at me with hopeful, tear-filled eyes.
Where are the words?, I silently cried inside. What do I say? This is all new to me. How do I...?
Lord, give me the words.
"You know what, bud? God has chosen the perfect baby for our family. The perfect one. He never gets it wrong. Ever. And, whether He's giving our family a girl baby or a boy baby, we are just gonna fall in love with him or her. I just know it."
He pulled the neck of his shirt up to his face and wiped the remainder of his tears away.
"I guess I just don't want things to change", he said with a sort of resignation to the unknown ahead.
"I know exactly how you feel. I don't want things to change either."
He got up and I sat there not sure what else to say or do.
As he walked away, it was my turn to fight back the tears. He must have been processing this for some time, trying to figure out - with the limited life skills eight years has given him - how a girl might change his world. In between our family's fun and silliness in the "Who is this baby in Mommy's belly?" guessing game we have going on around here, I have often sat wondering the same thing - going back and forth between the known joy of having another boy and the unexpected and unknown everything of how a girl might fit into our family.
Later that night, as he and I sat on the sofa together, I pulled up a photo.
"Look at this. Did you ever think you could love a baby as much as you love Whit? He takes your stuff and he tries to break the Wii and he poops in his diaper and stinks up the house and he only likes baby toys, but we love him anyway, don't we?"
Jack laughed a belly laugh. "Yeah. He's totally weird."
"How about we trust God together that He'll give us the perfect baby, again - whoever it is."
We both laughed and I wrapped my arms around his little eight year-old neck and tried to hug him, but he had slipped off and away before I could squeeze him - off to do what he does.
I treasure this moment between me and my son. My boy threw open a window - and allowed me to see inside his heart.
These windows don't open often - or at least as not as often as I'd like them to. Maybe because he's a boy. Maybe because of his age. Maybe because I'm surrounded by other children.
But, these open windows into the hearts of my children - they are such gifts. Because they give me a chance to point them to God in a specific and real circumstance. To show them that He is always trustworthy - in everything, in every way.
That in all of life's unknowns, He never gets it wrong. That in living in the not-knowing, we can have peace and joy while we wait to see what He has in store for us.
That we can always, always trust Him.