I missed the boy and I was thrilled to see his shadow come sleeking down the stairs last night around 9pm. My Branson guy is good, good, good. But he is hard, hard, hard. He doesn't watch TV. He doesn't play the computer or video games. He needs almost no down time and becomes quickly and easily irritated when things aren't hopping. He needs something to do nearly every single second of the day. But wrapped up in that little boy spirit is an amazing power to do good in the world. I have seen it happen and I have felt it way down in all the deep parts of my heart-- he was meant for big things. He was meant for lifting others up and using all that determine energy and boundless spirit to produce goodness. I am certain of it.
But in the meantime...we refine, we pray for help and we LOVE. Two and half years ago, Scott and I needed answers, we needed to know what would help our man in his need for nearly constant moving. We signed him up for gymnastics and never looked back. I have to remind myself of that answer to our heartfelt prayers every time I see the enormous gym bill. IKE!
Gymnastics, of course, has not solved every struggle and it has not made things magically better for Branson but it is one piece of the puzzle that we are always working to piece together.
So it's no wonder that when we attended his first meet last Saturday I had to fight tears at that handsome little face, those determine expressions that I know so well and the good old happiness I could see in his heart from across the gym.
Second place overall in a gym full of boys is not too shabby. It was a good day. How I love my Branseyboy. Sniff, sniff.