The walls echo with a delicious rowdiness. Some days feel like those walls might not hold, and the girls and I wonder what kind of world we have been transported into. A world of tumbles and hard knocks and deep guttural laughter and cries of "Uncle!". A world where stinkiness is a sign of manhood and fire and guns and arrows and tools hold an unearthly mesmerizing quality. A world where danger, risks, and circling just this side of death itself is the only way to live. And though a tomboy myself, I never really learned in our house of girls the secret life of boys. I admit I am lost.
So, I send them outside to the place where the clouds accept their noise without question and give them a soft cushion for all their explosive energy. There is no better sounding board than nature who hoots and hollers alongside, beckoning them to go on ahead and kick it up a notch. Here they are free, without civilized walls closing in on their impending manhood.
I am still learning this mothering of boys with all its letting go and giving more rolled into one package. And I have a piercing ache that longs to be this kind of a place for them...and weeps for the times I haven't. But, I love that I have been given the privilege of a front row seat to each metamorphosis because there is great delight in watching a boy grow into all he was made to be.
What a beautiful post! I love the "letting go and giving more rolled into one package," THIS, this, is the wrestling. The daily searching and daily giving it all to Jesus. Because when else would we know when to do which? And only His grace can cover the times we choose the wrong one. Thanks for putting words to the struggle (although, mine's not with boys!). :) I know you're enjoying your "front row" seat. :)
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