The man in my thoughts

little-boy-with-flowers

I was watching a baby.

He was so small. His little limbs, nose, & feet all delicate & sweet. His mother cradled him like he was the most precious thing that has ever existed. The picture deeply moved something inside of me. Maybe it was the motherly instincts or maybe it was this craving I sometimes get to carry a child of the man I love in my womb…I don’t know, but it made me settle back into my seat & in the midst of the stressful hustle & bustle of the airport I found a nook of peace.

The little one screamed with unhappiness, twisting his body this way & that way. I wondered what was troubling him. I wondered whether his mama knew.

Then my mind wandered off & carried him along with it. I wondered what kind of man he would grow to become; that small little heaving chest into that of a man – strong, sturdy & a comfort for a woman.

Men are scarce. Good men.

Or maybe they have just gone hiding. Men of character; men of stature. Men who can look you in the eye & tell you what it’s like to be a man; men who can tell you how God is a mighty warrior in their lives & how together with Him they want to love a woman in ways that will get under her skin & bring her to her knees; men who can show you the imprints of their hearts.

I watch this little man & I pray he grows to embody all the qualities of a man who is strong in all the ways strength is needed from a man, a man not intimidated by his role in the world.

I smile…maybe he will be an astronaut, or a pilot, an engineer & maybe even an architect. But that will pale in comparison to what he will build with his heart, mind & spirit – the stuff that will come pouring out of him, evident in the things he will say & do, in the way he loves.

I hope he will forever be grateful to his mama, who holds him now so tenderly – that he will remember her when he is grown, to hold her when she needs him to.

I hope he has faithful friends who will not lead him astray but instead have his back – challenging him to be a better version of himself.

I hope he treats all women with honour. Ah, how precious…for to learn respect for something as beautiful as woman is to cultivate all virtue – sacrifice, self-control, nobility & love. A man with these beautiful things out-pouring from his fingertips is a man indeed – one worthy of unswerving loyalty from all he brings into his camp.

I hoped this little one would grow up to be that man.

That he would beautifully morph into this man in my thoughts who I know nothing about except the most important – that he is a good man. & we desperately need good men. & good women.

I willed the little one to hush, concentrating with all my might, pushing all my tender affection his way. As his mama flung him over her shoulder, he met my eyes & stared. I held my breath & smiled. I whispered a prayer for him.  My work here was done.

This man in my thoughts exists. I know this to be true. & this little man will be a good man one day.

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