Last night, my son had one of those days where he just wanted to move to Australia. Nothing seemed to be going right for him, and days like that are hard on both of us. He has the most amazing spirit I know, and sometimes I have to remind him of just how great he is. He truly is my renaissance man. He can do it all. The problem arises when agency is involved. Every night we have a ritual of saying I love you. The next person says, "I love you too". The first person then says, "I love you more", and the second person says, "I love you most". Max hates it when I get the I love you most line. He wants to love me the most, and will add "I beg to differ". Only when he is a parent will he understand that my love has no boudaries. That my heart and his are tied together forever. That when his heart hurts, mine does too. That when he is happy, I am too. Everything he feels, I feel it with him.
Then I try to put perspective on that thought when I think about another parent. The Father of us all, our Heavenly Father. Quite simply, even though I understand more and more each day, I know that I can only see a part of his love for us, and then I hear those same words, "I wish they could see what I see".
Just how may times do you think he has said that to me.
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