You won’t always run and throw your arms around me. Especially not outside the school door, with all your classmates around.

“When I grow up,” you said, “I will make a law so they can’t cut down so many trees.” Solving problems will not always be so simple.

Hand knit sweaters will not always be cool.

You won’t always want to talk on and on and on about anything and nothing…ten minutes about the next lego set you want without even a pause for a comment. Someday you may not want to talk to me at all.

Life will not always seem so conquerable as, “when I grow up, I’m going to be an inventor,” nor as selfless as, “so what would you like me to invent for you?”

Picking up and dropping again helicopters fallen from oak trees to watch them whirl their short journey back to the sidewalk will not always be amazing.

Playgrounds will not always be pirate ships.

It will not always take twenty minutes to walk two blocks, crouching every three steps to pick up a leaf and hand it to me to put in my pocket, “so it doesn’t blow away.”

In fact, leaves won’t always seem beautiful enough to comment on with genuine rapture.

You won’t always want to hold my hand.

Little one, you will not always be as you are now. But you will not be altogether different, either. This is you. The boy will become the man. Grow up! I cannot stop it even if I wished to, and I don’t. In the boy hides the man, and I cannot wait to meet who the Lord will make you to be.

Little tree law maker, you will be a man. I pray you will tackle problems with the same level of resolve you possess now.

Little pirate ship captain, you will be a man. I pray you will never lose your thirst for adventure.

Little inventor, you will be a man. I pray your heart will be as selfless with your gifts as you now demonstrate so intuitively.

Little hand holder, leaping into my arms hugger, you will be a man. I pray you will show affection and emotion to the women in your life, even, and maybe especially, when others are watching and listening.

Little leaf saver, you will be a man. I pray you will extend compassion as readily to grown up and far more needing recipients as your tender heart does now to fallen leaves.

Little lego lover, you will be a man. I pray you will talk long and passionately about the things that matter to your heart.

Little sweater wearer, you will be a man. I pray you will be able to discern between true beauty and all else which imitates it.

Little helicopter whirler, you will be a man. I pray the simple things will still fill you with wonder.

Little leaf admirer, you will be a man. I pray you will still recognize beauty, and comment on it with genuine rapture.

Right now, little man, you are so small. And there is much we grow out of that we should instead grow into. You will not always love Jesus like this, but by the grace of God, you will love Him more, and with understanding. And the One you love will not have changed at all. Oh how I pray you will grow into Him! As Aslan to Lucy, may you find Him every year bigger, yet every year more surely the same.

I do not have the answers to the road of your life. I cannot even see it, much less protect you from it’s stumbles. But I know that whatever the question you face, the answer will be found the same place it has always been,

“Stand in the ways and see, and ask for the old paths, where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.”
– Jeremiah 6:16

Little man, I pray you will stand. I pray you will ask. I pray you will believe. But most of all I pray for grace from the One who holds the boy, and who will hold the man.

“Go back, go back to the ancient paths,
Lash your heart to the ancient mast,
And hold on boy, whatever you do,
To the hope that’s taken hold of you
And you’ll find your way, you’ll find your way
If love is what you’re looking for,
The old roads lead to an open door,
And you’ll find your way, you’ll find your way
Back home.”

Andrew Peterson, You’ll Find Your Way