My first instinct is to mourn.

I’ve mourned a thousand stages already. All the baby milestones. Chubby little toddler legs and preschool days and riding a bike and his first missing tooth and heading off to Kindergarten.

I mean, wasn’t that just a year or so ago???

But suddenly, he’s in high school.

My baby towers over me now on giant feet and his voice is deep and those strong arms open jars my puny little arms can’t budge.

Sometimes I stare across the room at him when he doesn’t know I’m watching and think, ‘When exactly did he GROW UP?’

And sometimes it makes me want to cry and clutch my chest and pore over all the baby pictures.

I want to mourn.

But then last week I watched him play right alongside his older brother in a varsity basketball game.

And there he was.

My baby.

My boy.

Strong and tall and tough and confident.

And for some reason I didn’t feel like mourning. I just felt like CHEERING!!! I wanted to shout to the skies, ‘Look!! That’s my boy!!! Isn’t he amazing???’

I didn’t feel sad at all. I felt proud and grateful. Because 15 years ago God gave me a beautiful gift.

This child.

This front row seat to an entire little person’s LIFE.

The baby milestones and his chubby little legs and preschool moments and those same little legs pumping up and down on his bike and being Tooth Fairy for his bitty baby teeth and watching him disappear into the classroom wearing a giant Star Wars backpack on his first day of kindergarten.

I’ve been right there in the front row the whole time. Watching and loving and praying and CHEERING.

It feels like the minute our babies are born, we begin the difficult process of letting go, doesn't it?? But I’ve decided I’m not going to be sad as he grows.

I’m not going to mourn.

I’m just going to be grateful, because I get to be a part of it all. I’m going to take in every single moment as I watch him become exactly who he is meant to be.

And I’m going to CHEER my little heart out from the best seat in the house.

‘THAT’S MY BOY!!'