How could I spend my days crying out for love while neglecting the love that’s in front of my face? The love that is me? Forgive me, God, for taking my biggest blessing for granted. My seed. Flesh of my flesh, my son whom I tolerate. Taking the sweet songs his life sings to me lightly. The way he pats my back for assurance when he has doubts. I’m not gentle with him. I often let my rage with society loose on him. I must admit there are times I feel like he is in my way. My seed, my child. I have homework and he has questions, needs. Have I been viewing him as a mistake, instead of as one of my biggest blessings and assets? My beautiful chocolate baby. He is a star, shining bright without being told to or even trying.
It’s obvious that greatness is a part of his genetic makeup. I watch as it oozes from his very pores. Eyes bright and deep, looking directly into my soul and then smiling, as if he discovered some hidden treasures that are ours alone to share. His curly locks are perfectly situated on his head, and his dimples match mine. He is my direct reflection and although it is beautiful, it is equally frightening. I want to protect him, teach him, shelter him. I’m reminded of what I did not have. I’m faced with the seriousness, the weight of the decision of bearing a child. Responsibility. Instead of allowing him to fly free, I treat him like a paper I want to edit, constantly calling him out on every wrong move, preventing him from explaining his thought process. I am far too afraid to allow him to explore this broken world. There will be no learning the hard way. Selfish. Lord, please heal my broken heart so that I don’t break my child’s heart in the ways that are familiar to me. Don’t allow me to become his oppressor.