Today is Isaac's 18th birthday. My third child has officially entered adulthood and my primary reaction is "wait, what?" Kidding. Mostly.
Our freshly minted adult --who was truly already an adult when he arose this morning, since he made his grand entrance at 1:46 AM all those years ago-- had a good day. His expressed desire from the get-go was to spend as much time with his family as he could, so he told Abby and Brady that the four of us (since Adam was working and unavailable) would go to Starbucks to start the festivities first thing. He appeased Abby by wearing the "Happy Birthday" headband she had stashed in her stuff, so Karen the barista gifted him a birthday cake pop (in addition to the rainbow unicorn cake pop, sausage sandwich, and strawberry lemonade he already had). The three of them engaged in their usual sibling chicanery as we sat with Terry at the high top table near the bar, and I'm pretty sure all had a good time.When the game ended, we headed to CPK for dinner, and then came home for presents and spice cake with cream cheese frosting. And now, with almost everyone else in bed or tucked away in their respective rooms, I have a few moments to reflect on the past 18-plus years of Isaac.
The short version is that he is and always has been a blessing. Before he could speak, his eyes communicated volumes, and I always knew that he was thinking, opining, evaluating, wondering, absorbing. He's always been his little brother's protector --way back to the early days when baby Brady would lose his pacifier, he would exclaim "Bah-e-man nee pa-e-chowa!"-- and his friends' pal and confidante and the first person to volunteer to help with just about anything. And he's always been a kid who will --with zero solicitation-- hug me and say I love you and thank me for being his mama. Just because.
And beyond the earthly considerations, I am grateful that he continued pressing into Jesus and reading his Bible and seeking God when life felt hard and he felt unworthy of love. And I am doubly grateful to God for being faithful to His promise that when we seek Him, we will find Him, and He will change us. I've seen those changes in Isaac firsthand: I've seen him become more patient. I've seen him hold his tongue when his younger self would've lost his temper. I've seen him choose love over disdain. I've seen him hold himself accountable by apologizing for his mistakes. And I've seen him make a legitimate difference in multiple people's lives, including my own.
So yes, I am grateful for the first 18 years of Isaac and for all of the many ways he has made and continues to make my life richer and more rewarding. He's a special person, and I am immeasurably blessed that I get to call him my son. Happy birthday, Isaac! I love you.






