Originally uploaded by Jean 1.
**editing to remove typos...blaming them on the thumb!**
Welcome ladies and gentlemen to another episode of "My son, My heart!" When we left last time you had just learned that Ryan had turned 8 years old. There was a thumb incident that left Momma unable to detail his greatness. Today, we pick up the story.
The weekend before the big birthday our church body had a Pastor's
Appreciation Picnic, an annual event that happens to be the exact place that Ryan, when still in -utero, decided to break forth with so much praise that my water broke standing in front of about 15 people, give or take a few. So to say that Ryan loves this annual event is an understatement. He looks forward to it as much as Christmas. This year, he was particularly excited. I wrote it off to what I call "birthday glitter"...that time before the actual birthday that the child practically sparkles with excitement.
Upon arriving, our tradition is to mingle, give our pastors cards that try to express our appreciation for unyielding service to our church body and, after a prayer of blessing is said over the food, we get in line for the food. (I know this is a lot of detail, but it's necessary for the story I am laying before you) After loading plates, Ryan and I went to the drink station where Liz and Sherri, two women from our church body, were serving drinks (we all have job shifts for fairness). My son was so sweet and said "Thank you for making my drink for me...have a good day!" and went on his merry way. I was glowing with pride for his manners and smiled, thanked my friends and went on. Later, when I approached the drink station for a refill, my son was there again, this time giving them a small plate of what looked to be leftover food. My smile of pride from earlier was replaced with sternness.
Me: "Ryan, they are not responsible for your plate." He looked at me strange,
Ryan: "That's OK." and walked away.
The momma in me opened my mouth for a quick rebuke, but was stopped, mouth open, by Sherri.
Sherri: "You don't understand. He brought that food for us. He wanted to make sure that we get something to eat since we are in here serving. He brought it to be nice."
I was amazed. They were amazed. They had thought that I had sent him over to do it to be nice since a couple of years ago they had actually missed out on a lot of the food because they had been serving drinks that time too. They thought I knew it and sent him to take the food. I had no idea and just stood there stunned. Later I was stopped by one of the elders in my church...He had taken her food as well. Still later, he went and took dessert to the women he had served, making sure that they had what they needed. That night, when I told my husband about the servants heart that my son had displayed I cried. Not tears of ungodly pride, but tears of humility. My son had the courage to be gracious and serve without need for reciprocation.
That following Monday, Grandma called. She told him that she hadn't had a chance to get him his gift yet, that it would be late. To which he responded. "I do not need anything Grandma, just your love." And he meant it. It flowed through my heart like honey, watered my soul like a quiet rain. I saw him for the first time as not just a little boy, but as someone who was well on his way to be a Godly man, a joyful giver and heart sensitive to the Lord's leading.
It was his birthday, but I feel like I received that most precious gifts this year!