My Blue Eyed Boy

Do you know what song I have been in love with lately?

"Hard Rain's Gonna Fall". By Bob Dylan. Performed by Jason Mraz.

And I listened to it this morning as I took my bi-monthly run. (Or maybe I should call it my bi-monthly shuffle-my-feet-only-slightly-speedier-than-I-walk.)

I like the line about my blue-eyed son and my darling young one.

Which made me think about my little Wilde Fox of a son, conquering milestones left and right.

Eating too many new foods to count - like peas and sweet potatoes and pears. And not turning up his tiny pert nose at any of them.

Responding to our voices and our expressions and freely offering his face-altering, flat-lined grin at almost anything we say.

And now his latest feat.

Lifting that wee belly right off of the crib and pushing up securely on all fours.
Downright adorable. The very definition of it.

He may be Number Six Keigley Kid, which may imply busier parents, hand-me-down toys and already-been-worn clothes. But that Six ranking also most certainly means more love from so many more faces, hands and arms.

This kid is loved. Very well.

And there is simply no way he will not know that fact.

I hope he rests in it. I hope he rejoices in it. Finds comfort in it.

I hope this love, this abundant overflow of love that drips on his sweet life will point him to the love, the greatest love, of a God who decisively placed this minuscule man in our home.

My blue-eyed boy. My darling young one.