Two months ago, Morgan turned 16.
I loved it, and hated it, all at the same time. Morgan is a source of stability for me. He always has been. He was not born with a "job", nor did I want a baby for "unconditional love". I already had that. I had unconditional love from God, my family, and my husband. This I knew. But wow, did I ever want to be a Mom. Being a Mom for me was plan A. When Jody and I got married, I was 19, and ready for children. Or so I thought. Are we ever actually ready?? I don't think so, but that's a whole different blog post!
10 months into our marriage, I was pregnant. I cried with joy. After that, sickness and fatigue took over and I fought through the next nine months just trying to keep any nutrition down. Other then the constant nausea and always feeling tired, I LOVED being pregnant. I felt like I was doing what I was built to do.
When Morgan was born, he was strong, healthy, and ready to conquer the world. He was almost 10 pounds, had a ton of hair, and these piercing, bright blue eyes. We knew from day one that he had the heart of a warrior. You could just see it in him.
My relationship with Morgan changed slightly when he was 5 months old. That month, Jody was diagnosed with cancer. Losing my own Dad at such an early age, I went through a time of fear and prayer for my son. And myself. Then one night, my heart quieted, and I was at peace.
It happened late one stormy January night. I was up nursing Morgan in his room, sitting in my glider rocker. I looked down at this precious gift and started to cry. I cried for all that was amazing, and I cried for all that was wrong. My tears fell onto him and I verbally spoke to him;
"No matter what, we will be OK. If it just ends up being God, me, and you, we will be OK. I promise."
For good or bad, that was when it changed. We were a team. I knew then, that even though we may have ups and downs, we could handle whatever life threw at us. However, once my heart was at peace, I also felt a stirring within me that all would be fine. I knew that God would not require me to raise this precious boy alone. And He hasn't.
Morgan is a rock. Somehow he has learned to ground me in situations where I could potentially fly off the handle. He respects that I am Mom, yet holds me accountable for reactions. He has taught me to pause. He has taught me that some things just aren't a big deal, but other situations need me to unleash my mother bear. He has lead by example that sometimes you need to walk away, and sometimes you need to defend.
The boy has grown up with a weapon in his hand. Be it a stick, sword, mallet, firearm, arrow, or axe. Real or imaginary, he is ready for battle.
His bedroom resembles the inside of a castle, and his heart reflects that also. Morgan loves his chosen Martial Art, Taekwon Do, and walks with a gentle confidence because of it. In the sparring ring, he is a defensive fighter, and that is what he prefers. He knows who he is, what he is capable of, and for the most part, respects that immensely.
As I reflect back on the boy he was, and the man he is becoming, I feel so blessed and grateful at being chosen to be his Mom. He was planned, wanted, prayed for, and celebrated! With him turning 16, I am reminded of how close we are to him journeying off to start his own life adventure, and causes me to pray more fervently for his unknown, and precious, future wife.
My heart aches at the thought of not having him under my roof, and it sings at the thought of the life he has the potential to carve out. I can't wait to see what God has in store for my Thor-like son, with the God fearing, warrior heart!