There's a boy who became a mother
and father
there's a boy who became a mother and father at 15 the kids weren’t his but they shared fifty percent of his DNA how could one become a father at 5 then at 7 and at 9 how did a boy find out he had kids already when he was himself just in elementary how did a boy become a father and the responsibility to nurture like a mother chose the boy i don’t know about you but at 15 all i was thinking about was will i make it in time for the bus or what’s for lunch in the cafeteria today pizza or chicken wings better stand by the classroom door before the bell rings? honestly that’s what a teenager thinks at that age but raising kids that is just something kids just don’t do you know every time i ask him he doesn’t give too many details just smiling and saying how do you remember i told you this there’s a boy who found his missing rib covered five kids’ with a roof riding on unpaved roads with a bicycle on the island the bumps and brown puddles oh no! they never scared him somehow he never wondered what if i fall down in the dirt he went low as he needed to raise his kids to live as kids giving them a life that he didn’t have in the first place there’s a boy who loved like a mother and a father three kids when he was also one sometimes i wonder how could a kid give something that he didn't receive in the first place but was the boy really alone striving? i don't think so. our Father in heaven is a redeemer pouring a love on the boy not bound by circumstances the childhood that was stolen from him so if one man exists on earth that embodies sacrificial love he’s the closest one i've found he’s a phone call away even when i call, he always ask first T(.)(.)(.)(.), kouman ou ye?* a nickname too i'll keep private his love sealed with many questions and when he hears those three-letter words somehow at 60-something he still blushes yet this is not to say there's no friction family of seven doesn't mean perfection but these days i've found the truth in our living rooms where life with Jesus is not about perfect but really progress more like daily sanctification it can be as small as watching a game arguing about that tackle that was anything but clean was it really a foul or that goal offside? but how did those words come out? love and delivery must always intertwine turns out it's not what you say but how you say it they say like mother, like daughter i'd say like father, like daughter but this was never about play on words or similarities about our personalities mirroring really the whole point of this is... to give him his flowers there's a boy who became a man and father to five kids his mission was always inside those four walls before anywhere else.
Kouman ou ye (Haitian Creole): How are you?
Heart Call:
Our parents are very much multidimensional. Sometimes it’s easy to see them just as your parents, but the reality is that they often had to grow up faster than they needed to. And they will express their emotions different than us.
But the beauty is that you can choose to honor them with something they may have never heard before.
I think you may not get it right the first time, some of our parents may value words of affirmation or acts of service, and sometimes it’s a blend of different love languages.
But we have to learn to love them in their love language and not our own love language.
Sometimes you take a second to think about it and something comes to mind. You’re like, oh, when I did this, they had that reaction. Or when I said this, they had that reaction. So maybe it’s acts of service, quality time,…
Learning to honor the people who raised us by loving them for who they are.
So in more ways than one… sanctification starts inside the house. That is the place we learn to let go of the things we were holding onto and learn what forgiveness means. For us to become more and more like Jesus.
Because after all… the measure of our Christ-likeness is our love. Love for God, neighbors, and enemies.
God says that we will be known by our love. Isn’t that something interesting, my friend?
Have you ever asked your parents about their childhood (how they grew up,…)?
How can you honor them in their love language?
xoxo,
Lynn :)