My younger son, largely overlooked in the shadow of his brother, deserves some air time.
He is reserved, intense, deeply resourceful, and probably the most gifted self-advocate I have ever witnessed. I frequently worry about his older brother, who lacks the last, but I never worry so much about G, because G always figures out a way to get what he needs.
Although his IQ testing has always revealed a vastly splintered cognitive profile, his emotional and spiritual maturity often leave me humbled. He can almost always be counted on to say or do exactly the right thing at the right time.
For some one who has not even reached his 8th birthday, I think this is pretty remarkable. I know plenty of adults who don't even have a handle on these things.
So today, during church, G turns to me, his deep sea-green eyes locking with mine in intense concentration.
"You know, mom," he observed. "I see God in your head."
This observation momentarily floored me. "You do?"
He nodded. "God is very big. Bigger than you. You worship Him."
I nodded. "That's right. So do you. That's why we're here."
"You know, mom," he continued. "God lives in the sky."
I pointed to his chest. "He lives here, too." I replied.
He gave me a sly little smile. "But I still see him in your head, mom."
I have to chuckle at the last exchange. He was accusing me of leading the witness in his own way--of trying to tell him how to see.
But he was letting me know that he can see just fine, thanks.
You just can't teach that.
But I wish his brother would take some notes.