seems every time i blink, time has stretched you yet again, from the smallish child who roared at ladybugs and happily scampered after his brother, to this lanky, self-assured boy of mine, wearing a decade of wisdom on your narrow frame.
you pin your heart to your sleeve, are quick to laugh, stride the hallways at school as if you own the place. you are clever and animated and can argue with an ardency that confirms you are my child.
studying you, it’s easy to recognize the shape of my eyes, your father’s narrow toes and unending lashes, or the grain of my hair, thick and arrow-straight. but tripping on the heels of that thought comes the realization that none of this matters. what i hope for instead is that you'll resemble Him.
i hope God’s tenderness floods your veins. i hope your words and movement are rooted in kindness, your cognition tethered with humility. i hope you joyfully give the glittering things of now to love other people, that you live for the delight of a King who frames all time.
happy birthday, zee. you make my heart sing.