The day I realized I wasn't really a Christian

As a child, I went to church semi-regularly with my family. I remember going to Sunday school and VBS. I remember struggling to memorize my Bible verses and reciting my lines for the Christmas Play (Happy Birthday Jesus!). I asked Jesus to come into my heart and save me. I proudly sat through my Confirmation classes, and I would always tell people in troubled times that I would pray for them. The memories that I made with my friends in the youth group at church are some of my favorite memories. When it came time to get married, I was adamant that we would marry in a church. I prayed. I took Communion. I read my Bible. I believed in God, and I believed that Jesus was my Lord and Savior. But I wasn't a Christian, or maybe I should say I wasn't a Christian in the ways that God had called me to be. I was just blindly going through the motions, and I was doing a poor job of it. 

I would watch any show or movie that I wanted regardless of the content. I would listen to any song that I wanted regardless of the lyrics. When I was presented with a situation that tested my resolve, I usually bowed out and hid behind 'do not judge lest ye be judged.' I do not like confrontation, so I would tend to sin by silence and ignore whatever sinful activities were around me. Sometimes I would even participate. When I was confronted with a differing world view than my own, I would argue but it was always for the wrong reasons. I argued my point with the objective of winning the argument rather than using my words to bring glory to God. I was prideful, conceited, quick to anger, and hypocritical.

When I met an acquaintance of my husband's, one of the first things that I did was invite him to go to church with us. Good, dutiful Christian behavior, right?! He declined and began arguing his point about how all he's ever seen in church are pews full of hypocrites. People who smile at you while you're at church but won't speak to you at the grocery store. So, what did I do? I showed him just how hypocritical Christians can be by angrily arguing my point and nearly refusing to speak to him afterwards. For years afterwards. I was such a poor witness it's appalling that I haven't seen it before now.

Yes, I read my Bible. Sort of. I'd read it in the way that you read a fictional storybook instead of like the pure truth that it is. I read it out of duty, but I should have been reading it for strength, guidance, and wisdom. I used scripture in the way that you choose foods off of a buffet; I took the parts I liked and left the parts I didn't. Yes, I prayed. Sort of. I'd pray in the same way that a child asks Santa for toys at Christmas instead of the thankful worship I should have been offering up to God every day. I prayed sporadically at best and most times it was to ask for something, like I had any reason to believe that I should deserve anything. I was not really a Christian. A Christian is the type of person like James and John who would drop everything, including family, to follow Christ just as they were called to do. A Christian is a person like Peter who stepped out of a boat onto crashing waves because Jesus called him. A true Christian would model themselves after Christ, not other Christians. 

Just a few months ago I had my spiritual eyes opened to the mediocre way that I was living. I had always known the right way to live, it is just that I never actually accepted the fact that I was living the wrong way. After all, I was a good Christian relative to many of the others around me. I'm not entirely sure when the revelation happened, but it has been growing more and more evident each and every day. I think I began to see myself more critically when J was born. I knew that I wanted him to grow up in a good, Christian home, and I began to notice the things that weren't very Christ-like of me. I made a conscious decision 'walk the walk' everyday. 

My personal changes started in my classroom. My first few years of teaching were spent treating the difficult students like difficult students and the good students like good students. Those old ways went out the window. I made an effort to see my students as people rather than as empty buckets that I was just supposed to pour knowledge into. Your perspective changes when you learn that you have a cutter, a suicidal student, a student who rarely gets a meal at home, a victim of molestation, and a few foster children in your classroom everyday. I started trying to nurture them as best I could (and as far as I am allowed).

Then I noticed that my habits were in need of an overhaul. I began reading my Bible for guidance and reassurance. I began praying continually, selflessly, and thankfully. And when I was tested with a person who claimed that all Christians are hypocrites, I did my best to show him that there is at least one exception. That acquaintance of my husband's, I began treating him differently as well. Rather than being an arrogant, pretentious example of a Christian, I began trying to be a loving example of the Body of Christ with open arms and healing hands. 

Am I perfect? Absolutely not! I fail each and every day. But, I'm faithful enough to get up and try again tomorrow. I'm still growing, and I have a very long way to go. I'm vastly different than I was a year ago, and I'm hopeful that I keep changing for the better. 

Acts 20:24

 However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me---the task of testifying to the good news of God's grace.

No Bruce, I will not call you Caitlyn.

I'm sure we've all seen the picture of Bruce Jenner on the cover of Vanity Fair laying across a bed dressed as a woman asking the world to call him Caitlyn. Not only is he dressed as a woman, he has the physique of a woman. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was a woman...and a pretty woman at that. I'm also sure that we have all formulated our own opinions on Bruce and his new identity, but I just want to take a second to remind everyone that it's not our job to judge him. No, you see, God ordained Jesus to be the judge. So while we sit around and criticize him, I would like to remind us all that we too are sinners. Our sins are just not as visible. 

I was scrolling through Facebook when I noticed status after status of Christians outwardly judging this man for his choices. Now I'm sure we all read the same Bible, so tell me where it is written that our job as Christians is to decide who does and does not deserve God's grace. I'm actually certain that Jesus told us in his own words, "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." Those words are written in red, people. I am not trying to come off as holier than though and the last thing I want to do here is seem argumentative, but it seems to me that some of my fellow Christians need to remember the Grace saved them from themselves before they stand on their Facebook soapbox and spew judgement onto others.

Maybe what Bruce Jenner really needs is for Christians to show him a little grace. We do not know what kind of hurtles he has had to cross in his life. We think we do because he has been in the public eye for so long, but we only see a portion of what his life is like. He has been misguided and damaged and the only thing that we are going to accomplish with judgement and criticism is to push him further and further away.

Recently God has opened my eyes to the way some Christians are pushing people away from Christianity. It continues to amaze me how God works; this time he used a student. I was speaking with a student on his last day of school and he explained to me that he is no longer a Christian. Just out of the blue like that. Keep in mind that I have spoken to this student every day of the past school year, and this boy all of a sudden decides to tell me this. I never pry, but I am sure you can understand that I get concerned when I learn that one of my students doesn't know Jesus Christ as his/her Lord and Savior. So, I gently asked why he had such a change of heart. He explained that the biggest reason that he isn't a Christian is the way he has been treated by Christians. Do you see how ludicrous that is? Christians, whose job it is to lead people to Christ, are pushing people away. It is almost enough to bring me to tears. So, I'm using my blog as a platform to shout to other Christians, "Stop pushing other sinners away from Christ!" 

Don't get me wrong, I don't agree with Bruce Jenner's choice to become a woman. I don't think it's his choice to make, and I know that God does not make mistakes. I don't agree with homosexuality, same-sex marriage, or sex changes, but that's not the point. The point is that no one, regardless of life choices, should be treated differently than anyone else. I try not to treat the people that I don't agree with any differently than I would the most right-wing, bible-thumping, pew-jumping, Child of God. Sinners come in all shapes and sizes. Just because we can see the sins of some people more clearly than others does not mean that those people don't deserve the same grace. 

Bruce has a mother, and most of my readers are mothers. Imagine that your son became misguided and lost. Imagine he made bad choices and started going down the wrong road. Wouldn't you want someone to show him grace? Wouldn't you want someone to lead him down the path of righteousness? Of course you would. The last thing you would want would be for people to spew judgement on him for the world to see or for Christians to decide that he was no longer worthy of salvation. 

I think our job as Christians in this ever-changing world is to stand firm and continue our role as the Body of Christ with open arms, healing hands, and loving hearts. So no, Bruce, we will not call you Caitlyn, but we will call you Brother and we will pray that one day we will call you Redeemed. 

Matthew 7:1-2

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

Thank you to my first friends.

I heard her say it as I was perched on the edge of her sofa trying to keep J from breaking one of her little cute knick-knacks. She was explaining to her friend that she had people over at her house and 'my husband's friend's wife' was her description of me. My husband's friend's wife. She meant absolutely nothing by it. I'm sure that it came out of her mouth without a second thought. But, that's when I realized that I was never going to be more than just 'my husband's friend's wife' to many of my new 'friends.' 

Let me back up. I was blessed to grow up with a tight knit group of friends. Real friends. We went to kindergarten together. We participated in pageants together and cheered harder than anyone when one of us won. Space camp wasn't ready for us when we went in the sixth grade, and Auburn University certainly wasn't ready when we toured it in high school. Emergency shower anyone? We'd spend whole weekends sleeping over at each other's houses. We rode with each other in our first cars and experienced that first taste of freedom together. We cried as we hugged each other after graduation not knowing that we'd experience many more life experiences with these friends right by our sides or at least on the receiving end of our Snaps. These friends have been there from first kisses to first babies. They know my most embarrassing secrets, and they love me anyway. These are friends are something special. My first friends. 

I moved closer to my husband's hometown when we got married, and now there is at least a forty minute drive between me and my closest friends. Not ideal, but I just always figured that is make new friends closer to my new home. No big deal, right? Wrong. Making real friends as an adult takes effort. I'm not saying that I haven't made friends. I have actually come to know some pretty amazing women in my new town, but these new friendships are not like the uncomplicated friendships you forge as a child. There's judgement and criticizism in new friendships. You have to work harder to be accepted into new social circles. You don't know the same people they know. You can't participate in the same walks down memory lane as they can. It's just harder. 

Even some work friends aren't like real friends. I'm sure I've been described as 'this girl I work with' by more than a few of them. I know I've described a few of them that way, anyway. I do have true friends that I happen to also work with, and, by the way, those workplace friendships are irreplaceable too. But even these are much more difficult to build and way too easy to lose. As soon as someone changes jobs that friendship begins to fade. 

But those first friends, they're always there. You might not speak to them for six months but you pick up the conversation like no time has passed as soon as your phone rings. So, thank you first friends. You are irreplaceable, and I can't imagine my life without you.

Proverbs 18:24

Friends come and go, but a true friend sticks by you like family.

I hate Pinterest

We just recently celebrated our little boy's first birthday. Because he is our only child and this was his very first birthday, I wanted to make it extra special. I started planning this party months and months in advance, and I, of course, used Pinterest as the source of many of my ideas. That was my mistake. Pinterest.

I am, by nature, a very anxious person. I am also, by profession, a perfectionist. These two traits alone are enough to cause heart palpitations when planning your child's first birthday party. Add the extreme pressure that the perfectly polished birthday pins of Pinterest put on us amateur party planners and its a nightmare. As I scrolled through Pinterest to gather inspiration for my little man's 'mustache bash,' I pinned idea after idea that I wanted to use. 

I knew from the beginning that I wanted him to have a 'mustache bash.' My sister got him a little onesie when he was born that had a cute little phrase and a big mustache across the front, and I knew that mustaches would make an adorable party theme. To get an idea of what I was up against, just search 'mustache bash' on Pinterest. Go ahead. Actually wait, don't. You might be compelled to plan a mustache bash of your own, and goodness knows I can't be held responsible for the emotional trauma that it might put you through. 

There were so many adorable cake ideas that I actually made three cakes for his party. Yep, three. Why you ask? The only thing that I can come up with is that I'm a complete lunatic and also a masochist. I hate baking. Actually, loathe is probably a better word. I loathe baking. I'm not very good at it either, so why not bake three cakes for my baby's birthday party?! I baked a giant cupcake for his smash cake, two dozen cupcakes with chocolate mustaches on top, and what might have been the most hideous attempt at a mustache cake ever on the face of this planet. Instead of the three long paragraphs that I had typed out to tell you about how I screwed up royally on the cakes, how about you just take my word for it. The smash cake is below...just check out that terrible chocolate cupcake liner. A prime example of how I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. And then there is the mustache. It was so terribly ugly that I just couldn't even take a picture of it. There was no way I was going to document that disaster. It was just...just bad. Just really bad. It was so bad that no one actually got to see it. I just cut and plated it before the guests started eating.  The cupcakes were awesome though. And cute. It is safe to assume that cupcakes are the only type of baking that anyone should ever trust me with.

Then there are the decorations. There were just so many beautiful (read professional) pictures of adorable mustache banners and cute little menu cards. All hand made. All added to my to do list. My panic attack started somewhere along the paper goods area of Hobby Lobby. As I stood staring at that wall of skittles-colored paper plates, I began doubting whether I could actually pull off a Pin-worthy first birthday party. I knew I wanted mustaches, and I knew I didn't want cookie cutter decorations. That's pretty much all I knew though, and any wife who has ever gone shopping with her husband knows that an indecisive woman shopping with her husband in Hobby Lobby is a nightmare for both parties involved. I'm proud to say that our marriage managed to survive that shopping trip. Anyway, I bought an eclectic bunch of decorations and hoped they'd form a cohesive theme once I put them all up. 

As the sun rose on 'party day' my nerves reached an all time high. I woke up bright and early and started cooking, cleaning, baking (...still 😑), and decorating. My awesome husband took J to out for a birthday breakfast while I tried to get everything together. I wasn't nearly finished when they got back but I kept working. With a little help from our neighbor, my sister, and my cousin we finally got the party 'together'. Because I really didn't know what he final product was going to look like, I wasn't really sure when we were finished, but since it was closing in on party time and everything looked pretty cute, I just made an executive decision that we were finished. 

The party started right on time and J had a blast. Of course, as I've come to realize as a mother, nothing went as I had expected but everything was perfect just the same. We had a blast. The only thing that I wish we hadn't done was serve IBC Root Beer. This was a Pinterest-inspired idea, but I wish someone had mentioned that it would look like all of our party guests were sitting around drinking beer. Yeah, not so great for the family photo album. Just sayin'. 

So, you ask, why is it that you hate Pinterest? I mean, I planned my baby's first birthday using nearly all Pinterest-inspired ideas, and it went great.

Well, I don't actually hate Pinterest. I just hate comparison, and Pinterest raises the bar so stinkin high for everything. As a teacher, I'm a go big or go home kind of girl, and this character trait combined with Pinterest turns party planning into a full time job. I thank God that I got married pre-Pinterest. I would have lost my mind trying to plan a wedding worthy of pinning. Don't get me wrong, Pinterest is an amazing tool. I usually don't ever even start a project without consulting Pinterest first. It's just that I miss the way things were before the bar was raised so high. Our first birthdays might not have had smash cakes, menu cards, or high chair decorations, but we all turned out just fine. Our mothers put their hearts into planning our birthdays, but it wasn't so they could post cute pictures...it was because they wanted us to have sweet memories. I think I need to go back to that.

Galatians1:10

For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.

Crap advice everyone gives newlyweds

Updated: I feel like a complete and utter idiot because the 'gem' about not going to bed angry is actually in the Bibile...so yeah, we should probably be following that advice. I am leaving it in to show how thoughts and attitudes change as we dive deeper and deeper into God's word. Sorry for my arrogance in writing the initial post...color me shamed.  

Years ago at my sister's wedding shower,  the guests all participated in a little activity where they wrote down their advice on having a successful marriage. We all wrote our advice in a cute little journal for her to keep and refer back to if she ever felt like she needed it. I participated too, you know, with my infinite knowledge on how to have a perfect marriage at the ripe old, unmarried age of twenty. Anyway, as I was turning to a new page I glanced at what the others had written. A couple of these pieces of advice stuck with me. 

Fastforward almost four years. Now I'm twenty-four and about to take the marriage plunge myself. As we approached the wedding date, G and I were met with an outpouring of advice and warnings. Most of the advice was identical to what my sister was told, some of it was great, some was crappy, but all of it was heartfelt. We just smiled and took it all in to be used one day when we felt like we needed it. Now, I'm not claiming to be an expert on marriage or anything; I've only got four years of experience under my belt. But, I have come to realize which pieces of advice are complete bull crap.

Never go to bed angry.

Who came up with this gem?! Do we really believe that we'll resolve an issue worth fighting over at midnight? Do you know what starts to happen at night when you fight? You get emotional. And angry people say mean things. I say definitely go to bed mad. Wake up with a clear head after you've had a good night's sleep. You'll be much less emotional over the issue, and you will have had time to cool down. There is a reason why you should 'sleep on it' when you are trying to make a big decision, it helps clear your head. It took me a couple of years to figure out that this suggestion was complete crap. G and I would fight into the wee hours of the morning. He'd try to go to bed and I would keep irritating him trying to come to what I felt like was a satisfactory resolution. Eventually he would pretend to be over it just so he could get some sleep. The next day, we would end up talking it over again and we would come to an agreement without any fight at all. So, my advice to you: sleep on it. By all means, go to bed mad. If your marriage is strong, it can stand up to a couple of nights of angry sleep.

Never fight without holding hands.

Confession: This isn't advice I was given before my wedding. I read this in a newlywed's blog the other day, and my immediate response was 'who does that?!' 

Seriously though, who does that?! We don't fight much, but you can bet that we will not be holding hands when we do. We're being nice if we're even staying in the same room as one another while we're fighting. I'm glad no one gave me this advice when I was getting married because I probably would have laughed at them. You can't fight like you mean it if you're holding hands, and sometimes you just have to fight like you mean it.

Any and all advice about finances.

I'm sure you couples who have been married for 50+ years have a method for managing your finances that works for you, but I think we youngsters will stick to the way that works for us. I'm pragmatic. Some couples work better when one person is in charge of the checking account, other couples prefer more teamwork. Some couples keep their finances separate and wouldn't have it any other way. Just handle it the way you, as a couple, prefer and ignore all of the well-intentioned advice. People always think their way is better, that's why they do it that way. 

Marriage is 50-50. 

Um. No. Marriage should never be 50-50. Divorce is 50-50; Marriage is 100-100 or nothing at all. Either both parties are giving everything they've got or someone is getting ripped off. Every time G and I have fought it has been because one of us felt like the other was not giving as much to our relationship as the other. Sure, our arguments were disguised as fights over money or time, but they all boiled down to the fact that we thought the other should be giving more. 

Put your spouse first.

This little piece of advice is said with great intentions, but it needs to be rewritten just a tad. It should be, "put your spouse first after God." Your relationship with God should always come first. Without a strong relationship with God, the best you can hope for in your marriage is mediocre. 

Oh, just wait. You'll see. 

Okay, okay, so this isn't exactly advice, but it is a phrase that we probably heard at least twenty times before we got married. Each time I heard it, I just politely chuckled and nodded. Four years later I'm wondering what we're supposed to be waiting for. Am I waiting for life to become incredibly awful? Am I waiting for life to become incredibly awesome? What is it? 

I'm thinking the people telling us this were either terribly cynical or they were just trying to be funny. Either way, I'm pretty sure they just need to keep their mouths shut if that's the only 'advice' that they have to give. Haven't they ever heard if they can't say something nice, don't say anything at all?

People hand out advice to newlyweds like fun-size candy bars on Halloween, but, like those candy bars, not all of it is great. My suggestion, if you want it, is to listen to each piece of advice you're given, but only follow the advice that fits your relationship. And never, ever argue without praying first. 

1 Corinthians 7:3 

The husband should fulfill his marital duty to his wife, and likewise the wife to her husband.

7 Surprises of Childbirth

As I prepared for the birth of my first child, I started researching exactly what I should expect. I visited blogs, read online forums, and read all the books. Even with all of my efforts to prepare, there were still plenty of surprises. I am all for helping others, so I thought I'd compile a list of surprises that I and a few women I know encountered while giving birth. 

1) Your epidural might not work. 

Admittedly, this one is probably my fault. As I've said before, I am a rule-follower, so I did as I was told when the nurse told me to shift from one side to the other to keep the medicine distributed evenly. While shifting, I inadvertently shifted the catheter and quickly learned the error of my ways. The pain came back, up one leg and down the other, and stayed until after my boy had made his grand entrance. I told my husband to get the nurse, I knew I was much too big of a wimp to handle the pain of childbirth, but all the nurse could do was give me bad news. It took half an hour to get the anesthesiologist back up to see me and by that time I was in too much pain to sit up on the bed patiently waiting for him to reposition my line. The good news is that the body-breaking pain magically stops immediately after the baby comes out. 

2) You will not care about a birth plan. 

I did not have a formal birth plan, but I did have an idea of how I thought things would/should go. All of my ideas flew right out the window when we got down to the nitty gritty of childbirth. I had planned to get my epidural as soon as possible and we all know how that turned out. I also planned to get skin-to-skin immediately afterwards, and we did actually get to do that. My sister planned to have her son vaginally, but she was forced to change her plan when the doctor came in and explained that a c-section was necessary for both her health and the health of the baby. Point being you don't know what is going to happen. If you're a planner, make a plan, but know that you may need to veer from that plan. 

3) A c-section is not the 'easy way out'.

This is secondhand information since I have never personally had a c-section, but from what I could gather by watching my sister after her son was born I'm thinking c-section isn't as easy as some people make it out to be. I mean, she had major abdominal surgery and immediately had to begin caring for an infant. There was no 'recovery time.' She also struggled with breastfeeding and I'm convinced that at least part of the reason why was that she was separated from her son for a long while after he was born. She was separated from everyone after he was born! At a time when your child needs to be held the most, she wasn't able to pick him up by herself.

4) Even the most modest people lose their modesty on the moment.

I'm modest. I'm probably one of the most modest people I know, but I no longer cared when it came time to get that baby out. It may have more to do with the pain I was in, but I actually wanted to be naked during labor. I didn't care who saw me either. The nurse asked "Can she stay?" right before I started pushing and I said "Sure, why not?!" without the slightest clue who the nurse was talking about. Looking back, it's comical how naive I was. I was actually going to buy a cute little delivery gown to wear while giving birth. Psh! That thing would've been ruined.

5) You shake uncontrollably afterwards. 

This completely caught me off guard. I was dutifully carrying out my skin-to-skin duties while the doctor was completing all of the necessary repairs to my nether region, and I began to convulse uncontollably. I was trying to enjoy the first of many moments of snuggling my baby, but I couldn't because I was shivering so badly. At first I thought I was shaking because the doctor was still sewing me up but it continued through the night until the next morning. Come to think of it, I think it happened for a couple of nights after J was born. I'd shiver myself awake in the middle of the night in the hospital, as if I wasn't already missing enough sleep my body had to sabotage what few hours of sleep that I was getting.

6. Your previous labors mean nothing. 

This information comes from a few mommies and nurses that I know. I know women who have had a completely uneventful labor with their first child and had to have an emergency c-section with their second. There are women who labored for more than twenty-four hours with one child and less than two with the next. My nurse friends have told me stories about women who think they're experts on childbirth because they've had one child. These women quickly learn that each birth is unique and should be treated as such.

7. You really do forget the pain. 

During labor, I looked at my grandmother who had five children without any pain medicicine and not-so-kindly explained that she must have been an idiot to voluntarily go through that immense pain more than once. She just smiled and nodded. After my baby was born and I got to hold him, she came up and whispered in my ear, "This is why I did it," and I completely understood. That pain is all consuming, but the lifetime of rewards that you reap after it is all said and done is so much greater than those few hours of pain.

John 16:21

A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world.

What surprises did you have during childbirth? 

Praying for my boy

As I sat down to write this post, I had intentions on writing a letter to my future adult son. I wanted to tell him all about my hopes and aspirations for him, but I never could get the words out quite right. I'd say one thing and then contradict myself in the next sentence.One thing remained constant though, I always wanted God's will for his life. I have no clue what I want kind of life I want for my child. Luckily, I'm not the one in charge of the planning, and I'm so thankful that God has already made the way.

As I'm sure most of us do, I pray for my child every day. I've done so since I learned that I was pregnant with him, and I'm sure I'll continue my daily ritual until I'm dead and gone. I discuss my boy with God like I'm talking to his doctor about his growth. I talk about his development like I'm telling a friend about the new trick he learned today. I have full conversations with God about J, thanking Him for His blessings and asking for His guidance on this all too important job of raising a child.

I pray over the decisions I make, and I ask God to help me make choices that will benefit J. I think about who he will be someday. Will my choices help to mold a confident, independent, Godly young man? And even though I know I shouldn't, I worry over past choices and whether they are somehow going to have a negative effect. 

As I watch him sleep, I thank God for the blessing of being his mother. As he plays, I marvel at the enormity of it all. Sometimes I cry because I am overcome by the magnitude of my love for him. The responsibility of raising him overwhelms me, but I turn to my Rock. I pray that I don't mess this up. This is such an important job, being his mother. He is the most important thing that G and I have ever done, and I know above all else that we cannot do this alone. So, I pray. 

I pray that I'm able to excentuate the good. There's so much good in him. He is so thoughtful, so smart, and he has such a tender heart. My prayer is that everything I do as his mother helps all of those good qualities shine.

I pray that he is kind but discerning. Kindness is a virtue that is lacking in so many people, and sadly it is also a characteristic that can often cause it's owner to be exploited. In today's world, kind people are at a disadvantage without awareness, so I ask God to bestow discernment on my little boy. 

I pray that he is happy. Happiness seems to be fleeting for so many people. We're always chasing the bigger house or the faster car, so I pray that he can find happiness in his life at any given moment. I hope that he can be content in his life and also be driven to create a wonderful life for himself. 

I pray that he is successful. Success is hard to find and even harder to recognize when you find it. I pray that he fights for his success but that he also understands failure. I hope he appreciates his triumphs  and is thankful for his blessings.  

I pray that he is chivalrous. Chivalry is a lost but valuable virtue. I pray that he carries the heavy loads and opens doors for the ladies in his life. I hope that he is able to find a good, Godly helpmate that will appreciate his chivalry and help to instill the same virtues into their children.

I pray that he is healthy. I ask God please let him stay healthy. I hope he never feels the pain heart disease, diabetes, addiction, or cancer. It feels selfish of me to ask with so much pain and suffering in the world, but I pray that he never has to know that kind of suffering.

I pray that he becomes a strong, articulate, God fearing man. I pray that he'll accept Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. I pray that he'll know the peace of asking Him into his heart. I pray that I can build a home around him that will nurture his relationship with God. Above all else, this is my prayer.

I could sit around and plan his life out for him, but I believe that would be putting him at a disadvantage. God has a plan and a purpose for J's life. So, I will pray these things, follow Jesus, and know that he knows the way. When I become overwhelmed with the responsibility before me I will trust in Him.

Samuel 22:33

It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure.