There's a great deal many things I could write to you today on your 10th birthday.
Your passion, creativity, boldness, and candor provide endless content to type into the words on this page.
I could write to you about all the antics and addictions you've had over the last year; like making us DVR all the shark week episodes so you can obsess over megladons and tiger sharks. Or how you literally couldn't sleep for nights in a row as you tossed and turned over choosing between basketball, football, or golf lessons.
I could tell you about your growing expensive taste in food like filet and lobster and how you expertly order your meal at restaurants and speak to staff with utmost respect. I could tell you how you hate math, hate writing, hate reading, but that secretly you crush long division, turn in killer reports on things like voting rights and immigration reform, and I find you devouring chapter books late into the night under your covers when you're supposed to be asleep.
I could tell you about the ideas, dreams, and plans you have that would need a library's worth of empty books to fill. You want to change the world with inventions and make it run more smoothly, efficiently, and effectively. You have plans to upgrade the entire U.S. military, invent new plays in countless sports, redesign everyday inventions like lawn mowers, tennis shoes, watches, and toothbrushes. And you've got several screen plays in the works for movies, plays, and tv shows.
I could tell you we butt heads when I know you can do something and you say you can't. When I push you more than you like in that moment because I know on the other side of that anger and disappointment is a cheering, fist pumping young man. I could tell you that you are gracious and forgiving when I have to apologize for messing up in the way I handled a situation.
I could go on and on about the past decade full of memories; from the moment you were placed in my arms until this morning when you wrapped yours around me. But here's what I want to write you, my bike trick riding, banister climbing, risk taking, say-what-he's-thinking, independent, aim for the stars, worship song writing, handsome son...
I'm watching you step across the line from boyhood to manhood. This place is messy; this in between of child and man. These next long years ahead of us are going to be hard, going to be great, going to be full, going to be rich.
And I want you to know, though I've prayed over you from the moment you were first being formed in secret, I have long dedicated my prayer life over these coming years. Because I knew I was never raising a little boy, I've been raising a man. And right now at this threshold I can see the boy fading and the man emerging in a rash of emotions.
I want to write to you, on this decade milestone, that I am your biggest fan and loudest cheerleader. When you hear failures and shortcomings I'll have ten more successes and greats to take their place. I'll be the first to point you to your Father and kneel beside you as you seek Him. You are not alone. You are a gift, you are a blessing, you are chosen, designed, created in His image. You are a leader of thousands, a defender of the least, and the first to rush for justice. You will change nations and lead armies. You will crush enemies and lead rebellions. You will overcome, stand firm, and bring glory to God. Your value is immeasurable and you will be greatly used for His kingdom.
You are my son. You are my little boy, my growing man, the baby who made me a momma, now holding my hand as we step into this new stage of preteen. I respect the man you are becoming and I could not admire you more.
So dear Harrison Robert, on this happy 10th birthday I write, to all the years we've built on, to all the years ahead, never have a doubt for a second how overwhelmingly blessed I am to be chosen to be your mom and the incredible man you are becoming!
Happy Birthday! We love you infinity and beyond!