They are the last in our household before they hit the official “big boy” stage.
And before I know it, they will transmogrify into the strong, long fingers and arms that will look more like their fathers than mine (thank goodness for them).
What is it about those chubby little fingers that makes me want to kiss them over and over again at night? I cup them as he whispers his bedtime prayers in his lingering baby voice, “Gawd, tank you for mommy da teacher. Tank you for her shoes. Her nose. Ummmmmm, her hair.” He pauses and says to me, “You hair tickles.” And jump rights back into his prayer as if he never stopped to talk to me. He ends breathing heavily as if he just ran a race with a long, “Aaaaamen.”
All the while, I hold those chubby fingers and wonder what God is going to do with them. How is he going to transform my sweet baby into a man after Him.
They are so small but so strong. Right from the get go when he first grasped my finger he held tight and didn’t want to let go.
So innocent and full of so much potential.
Yet, they remind me of how time flies and how I need to savor these little moments.
They remind me how I need to get about the business of praying that the Lord will establish the work of my little man’s hands and that the beauty of the Lord would be upon him. (Psalms 90:17)