Let’s recollect a moment on the previous two days of thankfulness
First–my salvation and my Savior. (They are quite intertwined)
Logically, the next would be kids. I am a logical person so that is definitely the direction I am heading. I have decided, though, to give each of my kids their own thankfulness day post. Each of them has had a powerful impact on my life. I am thankful for each of them, and while some of the reasons will be shared among the four of them, some are individual to one or more. And since I am a logical person, I am listing them in birth order. This does not mean one is favored more than four. Just have to put that disclaimer in!
Zachary David McMoil was born in January of 1990. He was our firstborn. I had no clue what I was doing as his mom! They say the first born is the guinea pig. I believe that to be true, at least for me. God sent Zach to us with some special needs, most of which would not be figured out until twelve years later. Some were evident earlier. He started attending school for intensive speech therapy at age two. This momma’s heart broke as I put him on that bus to be taken to Language Development Program 20+ miles from our home. He stayed in that program, five half days a week, year round, until age five. A few months of home services took him into a mainstreamed kindergarten classroom. School years were challenging. He was bullied tremendously in upper elementary years. We took him out of public school halfway through 7th grade when we got no satisfaction that the school was doing anything to help him at all. I look back now and am SO thankful we made that decision. We had no money for school books, so my parents helped us out. Zach had a special bond with my parents. The years I spent homeschooling him, while difficult, gave me an opportunity that so many moms miss. My son was home with me all the time. I didn’t have to wonder what he was learning or who may be bothering him. We did fun things as well as serious learning. I wouldn’t make any other decision if I could go back and do it again.
My oldest is now twenty-three. He is tender-hearted, and I know I can count on him to be there if I need him. This past week, he helped decorate for Christmas when I was struggling too much with fatigue to do it all alone. He plans to move out soon. I will miss him, but I know that the fact that he is able to spread his wings and fly is a testament to the grace of God in our lives and in his.
My heart overflows with thankfulness for the young man he has become.