A tree, tall and handsome. Even the forest does not know of his secrets, for he is quiet and meek. He is wise to know where to dip his roots, into the vibrant soil for nourishment. Day by day, year by year, he grows. Upward. Branching his arms towards the heavens, where he finds strength from the Son. His arms are broad and courageous. They hold the frailest of feathered creatures, all the while, standing firm during a fierce storm. His eyes are welcoming and kind. Young lovers walk the path alongside him. His presence brings peace. He is patient to give shade to a bunch of wearied travelers, sharing a picnic beneath. He is not one to be shaken by temptation, but stands firm on conviction. To lean up against him, is to find confident support. A rock, firm and unbending. His skin is rugged, yet his leaves are vibrantly soft. His very breath, speaks tender strength.
To have a son, to hold him in my arms and let him lean upon my shoulder. His rosy cheek lingers long against my soft, cotton shirt. He glances up at me and smiles. He casts another log upon the burning flame of my heart’s love.
boys will be boys. They play. Love balls. Hang from trees. Crash pretend cars. Make vroom vroom sounds, and other such, not so appropriate, southern vibrations. They are rougher, tougher, and oh so rambunctious.
The world teaches them to be strong, to hold their own; oh, and never, ever cry! But what about my Savior? He weeped for others, had compassion, and held a group full of little ones in His welcoming lap.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. I want my son to be strong. To be a leader. To hold to his God-given convictions with fervent strength.
But coupled with tenderness and compassion.
Tender Strength = Meekness.
Meekness does not = Weakness!
So let him play with those baby dolls and hug them tight. As he grows older, don’t shun or poke fun of his tender qualities. Praise him for them. Teach him to be kind: to open doors for a young lady, to be respectful to his authority, to be merciful and humble.
For meekness is not a sign that a man is weak. It is bridled strength. Pray for your son. Even now, as you are still able to cradle him in your arms. Pray for your daughters; that they would choose wisely. That she would marry a man that is rugged and strong, yet tender and humble.
Today: @ holy experience, we are sharing about Loving Like Father. Won’t you join us?