Tonight  Nathan and I watched Frozen with the kids.   It was the perfect ending to a chaotic day.  Topher was snuggled in on my left, Ellie on my right, each with their pile of blankets and babies.  As I pulled them both closer, I found myself thinking that if my world was frozen in any one season, whether for a few days or a few months or even longer – I would want it to be this one.

This season of life.

In the days before Topher heads off to school for the first time.   When he’s still a little boy who bravely climbs to the top of the jungle gym, yet still reaches for my hand when we start the walk home.  He loves to hug and refuses to go to bed until I’ve squeezed him as tightly as I can possibly squeeze him.  He has an adventurous spirit and can be convinced to go on any errand as long as I tell him it’s a mission.  “What’s our adventure today, Mommy?” he asks when he wakes up.  He loves to run, he loves to play, and he thinks the fact that his feet smell horrible is just about the greatest thing ever.  “Smell my feet, Ellie!” he tells his sister, and then falls over laughing when she actually does.

In the days when Topher boldly shares his faith with his friends while jumping in a bouncy castle at a birthday party.  “Do you want to hear the story of Jesus?” He asked between jumps.  I hope and pray differently but I’ve worked with youth enough to know that there may come a day in the not too distant future when the story of Jesus just doesn’t seem “cool” enough.

And in the days when Topher is still innocent.  We spent the afternoon at a memorial service for one of our youth.  Topher knew that somebody Nathan and I loved had died but we deflected his questions when he asked how.  Someday all too soon his eyes will be opened to the fact that sometimes people kill other people – but for now, Topher can fall asleep knowing that he’s safe.   He knows nothing about a twenty-year-old murder suspect awaiting his first court appearance on Thursday.

I’ve always loved September.  The crispness, the newness.  The excuse to purge my house, organize my schedule, and purchase school supplies.   

But this year I’m fighting it.

I don’t want life to change.  I don’t want Topher to change.

I’m not ready for my little man to grow up.


  1. says

    So sweet. The innocence of childhood is pretty precious. All you can really do is realize and acknowledge these moments and continue to cherish them though since time is constantly moving forward as much as we so often want it to stop.

    You are a beautiful writer, Holly!

  2. says

    I know, I never want my kids to grow up. I don’t want them to grow up and I don’t want to get older. I want time. to. stop. now. Sadly, I’ve come to realize that the older our kids get, the faster time flies. It’s truly ironic, as the first 3 crazy months of a child’s life drag its feet. I’m sorry about your loss, death is never easy.

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