It happens faster with each of my boys, that moment in time when I look into those handsome eyes and see more man and less baby.
With Jefferson, that moment sneaked up on me faster than I realized. I reached for his little hand before we headed down a steep staircase. "Momma, no thank you. I don't need your hand."
My heart squeezed as I let go of his precious hand and watched him tread carefully down clinging to the rail for support and not me like he used to do.
But isn't this what I hope for, long for, pray for? That God would raise up confident, self assured, bold men? The moment of letting go of his hand wasn't as painful as I watched him proudly reach the bottom and saw his confidence soar.
That's what parenting is all about. Cradling, kissing, holding, comforting, teaching, and letting go. Because we aren't raising boys, we are raising men, men who will reach for their Heavenly Father's hand as they walk this life.