JT turns 11 today and I've been thinking a lot about the last 11 years. When JT was first born, the pediatrician looked him over and then reported to me that he had ten fingers and ten toes and that he was perfect. It had been a long journey to get my baby, and perfection sounded about right to me.
These days, it's apparent that my baby is a baby no more. Instead, I am now the mama of a tall and strong 11 year old boy. The past year has been filled with Little League games too innumerable to count, adventures big and small, and the day to day laughter of our life together. Increasingly, I'm discovering how handy it is to have a strong capable boy to help around the house. In ways too numerous to count, JT is the biggest blessing in my life.
I sometimes feel as if my life is a series of mis-steps and errors, mistakes that I can't even begin to unravel and correct. But in my baby, my boy, there is a perfection that still takes my breath away. He still has 10 fingers and toes, and I have the sure knowledge that he is far more than the sum of his parts.
Since he was born, I have sung songs to JT. For some years now, he's sung along with me. Every few months, we burn a new CD to play in the car and we've had many favorites over the years. This winter, he developed a particular liking for a song by John Hiatt called "Have a Little Faith in Me." And on those mornings when he sang from the backseat, "When the tears you cry are all you can believe, have a little faith in me. Have a little bit of faith in me," I was reminded of the power of my belief in him. We've come a long way in the past 11 years; there is plenty of journey yet to complete. At this point, I sometimes feel that I don't know much. But with a complete certainty, I know that I believe in JT.