rhonda franz

I see you.

Many days, I’m ashamed to say, I see your disobedience and your grimaced face and the look on your face when you’re in “not” mode. The mode when you absolutely are not going to do what you’re asked, or go along with whatever we’re doing that moment as a family.

I see you just before a transition of any kind—getting in the car, dropping you off to preschool, picking you up from preschool, ending a book – and I’m tense. What will happen this time? Am I prepared for it? Are you?

I see your mouth tighten with stubbornness, your hands reach for things you’re not supposed to have, and your fingers destroy everything from books to toys to childproof locks.

I see your frequent states of sad and mad and frustrated, visible from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

I see your contorted face when textures and sounds and the world in general around bother you and you’re in a cycle of confusion and discomfort.

And other days, thankfully, and not without God’s blessings and ultimate example of love and mercy, I see other things.

The most kissable cheeks in the universe.

One of the best smiles I’ve ever witnessed.

A husky laugh, distinctively all your own.

A head filled with a mind that comes up with the most interesting thoughts, solutions, and questions.

I see your happy, excited moments, visible from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

I see a strong, vivacious, boy whose spirit is a force to be reckoned with. And whose mama must choose, in all the other pained moments, to see the good.


What do you see today? Join Lisa-Jo Baker and Five Minute Friday.

Coffee House Mom