You cooked us dinner last night, your favorite go-to, spaghetti with meat sauce.
You went to the store with me to get everything you needed. You didn’t ask to drive, you haven’t even mentioned it.
We rode together, it felt like you were content for the first time I could ever remember.
After dinner you put the leftovers up. You smiled at me.
I said to your Dad, our son cooked us dinner. He said, yes, and he cleaned up afterward.
God gave you back to me and he gave you to me abundantly. Just when I thought I had lost you for the last time, God confounded evil and turned it into something very good.
How could it have been that 9 weeks, just 63 days after the devil thought he finally succeeded at taking you out, you were chopping garlic and complaining about how long it was taking for the water to boil?
63 days ago I begged God for another hug, just one more hug from my son. He gave me so much more than that. You belonged to Him, but He gave you back to me and there have been so many hugs.
I woke you up this morning at 5am. “Get up sweet boy,” I said, “it’s time to go fishing.”
Now every breath I take is a miracle, every thing I see is a gift. I inhale life and I exhale gratitude because God has given you back to me in abundance. Grace, grace, it is all grace. Even if we all disappear tomorrow, this morning I kissed you on the cheek and watched you walk out the door into the dark.
