Not Even Close

Some things are easy. It is easy to love Jude, to gaze at him and wonder at his china blue eyes and listen to him mumble mysteries under his breath. I love his hand gestures, and how he squints to look at things in the light.

I don't mind explaining him to people, or having no time for myself. Brushing his arms and legs, massaging him, shaving ice with the Spongebob snow cone maker so he has 'snow'; I could do that for the next 50 years and never complain.

This is what is hard: Saying no. Making Jude do what is difficult for him. Listening to him cry and not being able to console him. Putting him on the bus and watching him ride away to have fun and learn and play with someone else. Loosening my grip, just a little. Remembering that ultimately he doesn't belong to me. I want to take this gift God gave me and hide somewhere with it and not share it, ever, or let it change.

I guess we are getting into the true meaning of love. Do I love Jude more than myself? Is what he needs more important than what I want, which is having my boy near me and happy always?

I think I understand more everyday why God chose to use His only child to show us how much He loves us. I am just not there yet. Not even close.