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The Last of the Lasts

August 28, 2022 By Kristin Saatzer 14 Comments

The speeding bullet train called time has stopped me in my tracks today as I wipe tears, giggle, and simmer in nostalgia. This morning, I took the LAST first day of school pictures. Never again will I take a picture of a boy of mine starting his first day of school. My baby is beginning his senior year, and wow, senior year is tough on a mama’s heart.

This “boy” of mine, our caboose, blasted into our lives over eighteen years ago. He was a tiny tornado with bright eyes, looking for mischief. Once he was mobile, his three older brothers learned that no LEGO creation, no game left out until later, no crayons or pencils were safe. Everything was fair game. He often tried to escape from the house to “break into” the neighbors, opening their doors and running right through. I once caught him chewing through a sealed block of cheese. Another time, a weeks-old, hard-as-a-rock gingerbread house. Climbing was a favorite past-time as he was an expert cabinet scaler. We had to hide bungee cords after catching him standing on our Golden Retriever, trying to connect a bungee from her collar to the ceiling fan. Micah enjoyed taking apart machinery, beds, computers, really anything that was put together.

When he was quiet, there was trouble. And when he wasn’t quiet? This kid loved hearing his own voice. The louder, the more delight. He would squeal, appreciating the echo when we were in large stores. My boy found fun in yelling his order (with a speech impediment) at food servers which made dining out a joy.

Discipline? He didn’t care about any stinkin’ discipline! My husband often arrived home from work to find me in tears, sometimes in the fetal position. I did not think I would survive this child. We worried about Micah’s future; and felt the odds were strong that a someday criminal was inhabiting this little body. His brother, Noah, tried to comfort us all when he said, “Don’t worry, most criminals are quiet.”

He could be deeply charming, especially to strangers. People at sporting events were his favorite targets. He would sidle up to someone enjoying a snack when my back was turned (or God-forbid, watching a brother play in his game) and charm them out of their licorice or hot dog or half-eaten anything. It was impressive. Sometimes if their back was turned, he would steal their half-eaten anything.

Despite the tempest, I saw my Micah’s sweetness in the rare moments of still waters (not just when a low-grade fever was involved). The tender soul who loved to help, please, and cuddle. My baby would always be just that, my baby. My last. So much of parenting is capturing the firsts: the first smile, first steps, the first day of school, the first dance… but with this last boy, I have intentionally tried to capture the lasts. These lasts are difficult to catch, so easy to miss. Did I recognize at the moment that it would be the last time he took a bed apart or yelled at a waiter? No. But more so, did I sense the last time I rocked or held him on my lap that this was it? His last time to wear his favorite dark blue shirt with a race car on the front. His last time to build a hot wheel track. Or when he presented me with the final crayon masterpiece to hang on our fridge. Thousands of little-boy moments that all come to an end. Continue Reading

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Graduation Gratitude

May 28, 2016 By Kristin Saatzer Leave a Comment

psalm 119 76Graduations bring reflection and sentimentality, don’t they? I find myself in that mode as another graduation approaches.

Motherhood surpasses anything in my natural gifting, energy level, and temperament. Had you told me in my youth I would be a mom someday, I would have laughed! Had you told me I would birth and raise four boys, I would have passed out or slapped you. It was not part of my plan.

But God.

His purposes for me blew up my imaginings and ideas for my life.

After five years of marriage, Dan and I became parents to Samuel. And I was born anew. Changed by love.

After Sammy, came Noah. Baby Noah loved his mommy. Sammy had been an equal opportunity baby. Not Noah. He was all about mom.

For eleven years (and two brothers later), Noah was my biggest fan: wanting to be my partner in games, insisting I cuddle with him every night, daily sharing his heart with me, and doing his school work attached to my side.

As his hormones invaded, things changed for us. My biggest fan grew distant. My silly, joyful-boy grew sad and serious. Because of Noah’s fast-flooding hormones- brooding and resentment took hold. He viewed me as his foe and was no longer my biggest fan.

It crushed me.

By observing friends, talking with my husband, and reading parenting books on boys, I knew this was somewhat normal and I had certainly experienced it with my first son.

However,  this time, it grieved me deeply.  In my gut, I felt betrayed. Even though my rational self said  otherwise.

But pain is a tool for growth, isn’t it? Pain is a tool God uses to strip away our reliance on the love and acceptance of others. Motherhood strips me clean and draws me closer to God like nothing else. Nothing.

Raw experiences in  my  journey with Noah, disloyalty, and rejection by loved ones led me to the unfailing, unconditional love of God. I needed to understand and believe it, to live in it. So, I filled my heart daily with big doses of God’s word, my healing  balm. I meditated on scripture that spoke of God’s unconditional love and acceptance for me. His unfailing love was my comfort as Psalm 119:76 says.

And His unfailing love is my comfort. When feelings of rejection or insecurity sneak in, I return to His word, His truth, my healing balm. 

Noah’s high school graduation is only days away. I will be joining other parents watching from the stands dabbing at the waterworks streaming down our cheeks. A mom, grateful and proud as I  honor my boy who has accomplished so much after pushing through many bumps (and boulders) along his path. A mom, shaped by pain and loved by an amazing God whose love never quits.

Tonight as I type, I weep. Graduation gratefulness stirring in me as I reflect. Tears of deep, deep thankfulness flow because Noah and I have arrived at a precious place together. Our  relationship- one marked by pain, love, and God’s perfect grace. 

Lord, thank you for your unfailing love.   piccollage my precious boy

 

 

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