My dearest Seth,

I have done a lot of thinking today and have drawn this conclusion:

Truth is, you are inconvenient.

During the quietest moments of any given church service, you indulge your urges to sing, clap and chant, “mommamommamomma!”as you claw at my face hoping that this will be the day you finally get my nose as I often aquire yours at home.

Or..or…OR…on the most specialest of occasions, you use what words you do have to cry out, “HELP!” in front of strangers when you do not get your way.

Yeah, that’s my favorite.

In this social club environment where appearances matter, you seem to be constantly wet, crusty or sticky from all that leaks from your body and you sometimes unashamedly elicit rude sounds or smells that the polite would save for the bathroom…and like any little boy, you find it all hysterically entertaining. Of course you announce, “POOP!” to make sure no one missed out on the fun, because you’re generous like that. Once in awhile, you throw in a seizure for kicks.

What you have yet to notice, my precious one, is that you live in a part of the world where we like to pat ourselves and eachother on the back for all the good we do:

Namely, writing that check or saying that prayer or posting that link, or having that enlightened opinion that goes against the grain- all from the comfort of our safe and tidy, cushioned pew…

But then YOU come along and you refuse to fade quietly in the background and you go and be a living, breathing reminder that ministering to the inconvenient (who you’ll recognize by their close proximity to the very heart of God) doesn’t happen from the pulpit…that rather, it springs from our actions, attitudes and most epecially our countenance face to face because chances are, the incovenient won’t speak our language.

Yes, Seth, your inconvenience is scary because you find out who God really is to you when you come face to face with the fact that faith isn’t always enough…that we serve a God who doesn’t always deal in Hallmark endings.

I remember when I was scared of you too…and God used that…no, USES that and your inconvenience to shape me.

I’m so proud to be your momma, dearest one. Parenting you is a gift I can never deserve. Your smile, your laugh, your incomprehensable joy despite your circumstances challenge me to be more like you and I am convinced that the more closesly I model your example, the more like Jesus I can hope to be.

I love you…and just between us…I’m every bit as entertained by “POOP!” as you are.

Heck, even “HELP!” is very nearly funny.

Just so you know.