I was completely taken aback. I didn't expect to have an emotional reaction to such a thing, but I was in tears. For the first time in my life, I looked at high school seniors and saw babies, more precisely MY babies.
Firstly, when did I get so old?
Secondly, my kids are going to be in this "graduating" position waaaay too soon. I know it. I don't fear it, or dread it, but it just makes me ache. It makes me ache for all of the things I won't remember, things I haven't had the time or foresight to write down. It makes me ache for the things I will remember. For the way his baby knuckles had their own little dimples. For the way she uses a possessive apostrophe when she calls out "MY'S!"
But third, and most significantly, it hit me just how quickly they change from being mostly mine to mostly their own. It is shocking, beautiful, and completely heart wrenching.
It was the young man in the trio that did me in. He was tall and strong, well on his way to manhood, but his face was still that sweet baby round. Maybe it was because my little guy already loves to sing to his Lord, but when that kid on stage opened his mouth, I was expecting to hear a baby's voice. Squeaky, a little off key, and a bit behind the tempo. But that's, of course, not what I heard.
And I was absolutely done for.
The tears streamed.
Here was this kid, maybe 18 (close anyway) pouring his heart out and LEADING the congregation in musical worship. If the next 15 go anywhere near the speed of these first three years, that could be my sweet son in about half the blink of an eye. My son, tall and strong. My son, with a man's voice. My son, leading others in worship. My son, my little round faced three year old baby.
Lord, help me. Help me point them to you every single time. Help me to be fully present. Help me to soak in these moments with full appreciation, and help me to be ready to let them fly.