Last Sunday my son gave a talk in Primary for the first time in years. It was short, but he thought of it himself, and knowing how standing in front of people gives him anxiety, I felt proud of him. A couple of weeks ago he gave a package of Oreos to a boy he’s disliked for years. He told me about it like it was no big deal, but I knew better. It was a huge deal. I am still learning a lot from parenting this child, but I can’t let the weight of the future steal my joy in him right now. These moments represent progress, and I am grateful.
It’s a different type of gratitude or pride, though. I can’t really explain how much he has grown without telling his whole story, which I won’t do here, or even to most people. My husband and I are the ones who know the whole story. We are the witnesses to his growth. It’s us, and God.