Stephen is All That--and Much More
It's August 12th, the day Stephen was "supposed" to have been born in 1991. I'm glad God had mercy and sent him to us early.
This one bearing the name meaning "crown" would also be a clown. My first hunch, if you've read my posts this week, came in utero. Remember the three times he joked around about being born and finally came the fourth time he was "called"? (That hasn't changed.) It was like a series of bad knock-knock jokes. (Are there any good ones?)
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Baby.
Baby who?
Baby Not Yet.
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Baby who?
Baby's coming.
Baby's coming who?
Baby's coming another day.
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Baby with blue eyes and curly hair.
Baby with blue eyes and curly hair who?
Baby with blue eyes and curly hair but not yet.
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Baby girl.
Baby girl who?
Baby girl, I mean boy.
He has always loved humor. I knew he had a penchant for puns when he was only two. I was teaching him to say parts of this face when I pointed to them. He wanted to know all the details, even the names of the hairy arches above the eyes. I told him they were eyebrows. Next time we went through the "forehead, nose, mouth, eyes" routine, he pointed to my eyebrows and said, "Eyebrowskis."
He memorizes the monologues of favorite comediens. His all-time favoric comic is Brian Regan. Stephen can remember and tell jokes like no one else in our family. And when I bombed a joke once, he redeemed the bombed punch line as his screen name on IM!
Stephen loves the Bible and doctrine. He does not shy away from hard questions, nor does he charge God with "why" when his own life is faced with hardship. Two years ago he was riding his skateboard home from a friend's house. Our neighborhood is all rolling hills. The streets are paved rolling hills. He wasn't wearing a helmet (that's a whole 'nother post) and could see that he could wipe out and get a head injury if he didn't bail off. So he jumped. He landed so hard on both feet in an upright position that his quad muscle --which is attached to ligaments and bone below the knee--snapped a chunk of his tibia tubercle. (On boys that chunk is quite noticeable just below the knee.) Down he went, but he says in the midst of the worst pain he'd ever known before or since, God flooded him with peace. The result of the accident was emergency surgery, bedrest for weeks, and physical therapy for months. Instead of charging God for his own error in judgment, he thanked him that the accident happened in August when he'd already had his 13th birthday and two good months of outdoor play, especially basketball--his favorite sport. He thanked God for our neighbor, Gerry, who carried him to the truck and drove us to the ER. He thanked God for a surgeon who had great skill and a dry sense of humor. He even thanked God that his orthopedist was Dr. Wright, not Dr. Wrong. He thanked God for his pastor, Jason Reyes, who came by not only to pray with him before the next day's surgery, but also brought Sports Illustrated and some Popables candy. (Stephen's got an insatiable taste for candy. Guess that's why he's so sweet.)
Stephen is gentle. I think it's one reason little children and handicapped people are instinctively drawn to him. His spirit is easy-going and compassionate. He tends to attract the socially-backwards type of kids because he is not concerned about how they make him look or feel. He is gentle when he rebukes, also. He can discern truth easily and speak it kindly. He can silence a room by a gentle scripture with laser precision about an otherwise nebulous issue.
Stephen is a servant. I've seen him time and again sweep the kitchen, cut the grass, take out the trash, set the table, play with Joel, fix my computer problems, fill the gas tank, vacuum the carpets, make dinner and bring me meds and water when I'm sick. I've seen him help in the 2-year-olds classroom, set up and take down chairs at school, paint there with his dad, and dozens of others little acts of service. Yet still I frequently hear him ask, "Is there more I can be doing?" He really enjoys serving. The next way he's looking forward to it is by being a drummer in the youth band. As his mom hearing him practice, I can say he'll soon be ready, if he's not already. (Why did I let him get drums? Well, I heard there's an extra jewel in the crowns of drummers' mothers when we get to heaven. I like jewels. I think it'll be a great reward for all the repetitious noise I put up with day in and day out.)
I could say so much more about my Stephen, but suffice it to say I feel extremely thankful that God made him for us. Well, I mean I know God makes all things for His pleasure, but He shares very lovingly. I am selfish about Stephen: I would not want any other family to have him. I'm willing to share, but not to give. You know, when you get a crown, you kind of like to keep it!
I love you, Stephen,very much. And I'm not joking.
Mom
This one bearing the name meaning "crown" would also be a clown. My first hunch, if you've read my posts this week, came in utero. Remember the three times he joked around about being born and finally came the fourth time he was "called"? (That hasn't changed.) It was like a series of bad knock-knock jokes. (Are there any good ones?)
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Baby.
Baby who?
Baby Not Yet.
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Baby who?
Baby's coming.
Baby's coming who?
Baby's coming another day.
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Baby with blue eyes and curly hair.
Baby with blue eyes and curly hair who?
Baby with blue eyes and curly hair but not yet.
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Baby girl.
Baby girl who?
Baby girl, I mean boy.
He has always loved humor. I knew he had a penchant for puns when he was only two. I was teaching him to say parts of this face when I pointed to them. He wanted to know all the details, even the names of the hairy arches above the eyes. I told him they were eyebrows. Next time we went through the "forehead, nose, mouth, eyes" routine, he pointed to my eyebrows and said, "Eyebrowskis."
He memorizes the monologues of favorite comediens. His all-time favoric comic is Brian Regan. Stephen can remember and tell jokes like no one else in our family. And when I bombed a joke once, he redeemed the bombed punch line as his screen name on IM!
Stephen loves the Bible and doctrine. He does not shy away from hard questions, nor does he charge God with "why" when his own life is faced with hardship. Two years ago he was riding his skateboard home from a friend's house. Our neighborhood is all rolling hills. The streets are paved rolling hills. He wasn't wearing a helmet (that's a whole 'nother post) and could see that he could wipe out and get a head injury if he didn't bail off. So he jumped. He landed so hard on both feet in an upright position that his quad muscle --which is attached to ligaments and bone below the knee--snapped a chunk of his tibia tubercle. (On boys that chunk is quite noticeable just below the knee.) Down he went, but he says in the midst of the worst pain he'd ever known before or since, God flooded him with peace. The result of the accident was emergency surgery, bedrest for weeks, and physical therapy for months. Instead of charging God for his own error in judgment, he thanked him that the accident happened in August when he'd already had his 13th birthday and two good months of outdoor play, especially basketball--his favorite sport. He thanked God for our neighbor, Gerry, who carried him to the truck and drove us to the ER. He thanked God for a surgeon who had great skill and a dry sense of humor. He even thanked God that his orthopedist was Dr. Wright, not Dr. Wrong. He thanked God for his pastor, Jason Reyes, who came by not only to pray with him before the next day's surgery, but also brought Sports Illustrated and some Popables candy. (Stephen's got an insatiable taste for candy. Guess that's why he's so sweet.)
Stephen is gentle. I think it's one reason little children and handicapped people are instinctively drawn to him. His spirit is easy-going and compassionate. He tends to attract the socially-backwards type of kids because he is not concerned about how they make him look or feel. He is gentle when he rebukes, also. He can discern truth easily and speak it kindly. He can silence a room by a gentle scripture with laser precision about an otherwise nebulous issue.
Stephen is a servant. I've seen him time and again sweep the kitchen, cut the grass, take out the trash, set the table, play with Joel, fix my computer problems, fill the gas tank, vacuum the carpets, make dinner and bring me meds and water when I'm sick. I've seen him help in the 2-year-olds classroom, set up and take down chairs at school, paint there with his dad, and dozens of others little acts of service. Yet still I frequently hear him ask, "Is there more I can be doing?" He really enjoys serving. The next way he's looking forward to it is by being a drummer in the youth band. As his mom hearing him practice, I can say he'll soon be ready, if he's not already. (Why did I let him get drums? Well, I heard there's an extra jewel in the crowns of drummers' mothers when we get to heaven. I like jewels. I think it'll be a great reward for all the repetitious noise I put up with day in and day out.)
I could say so much more about my Stephen, but suffice it to say I feel extremely thankful that God made him for us. Well, I mean I know God makes all things for His pleasure, but He shares very lovingly. I am selfish about Stephen: I would not want any other family to have him. I'm willing to share, but not to give. You know, when you get a crown, you kind of like to keep it!
I love you, Stephen,very much. And I'm not joking.
Mom
posted by Zoanna at
9:11 AM
5 Comments:
Great post!
A sense of humor complements the sense of God's presence very well, I think.
Dear Zo,
Your Stephen is a treasure. I just read every entry you so lovingly wrote about him. Just as you feel blessed in him, so I hope he feels blessed in having a Mom that can take the time and thoughtfulness to write such a tribute to her son.
This is something I admire a lot in you, my friend. Your taking the time - all the time it may take - to ponder at things, events, friends, and above all family, and to see God's work in them.
(Oh, and I think I now have a quite definite picture of what I'll make for your birthday. It won't be "big", but I hope you'll like it - at least it should be meaningful. It might come a bit late though... Today I received 5 huge books that I must read ASAP, and tomorrow or the day after I should receive some fabric from a friend to make charity baby clothing for the Middle East. I pray for a good night's sleep to help me with all this!)
I love you, my friend. I've missed you, and finally being able to read your blog this afternoon has been a blessing.
When is your birthday? Mine is exactly 2 weeks from today!!
Aug 26, same as Karen H's.We're twins. I was born at 6:52 am and she was in the afternoon, so I am older and wiser, she is smarter and prettier. :)
Isabelle, I am blessed to have you as a friend. Please do not prioritize a gift for me. I would tell you not to make one at all, but I would be a fool not to want something more from your hands! And what can I say . I love gifts. Who doesn't, huh??? So just let me reiterate: don't prioritize my birthday. I, too, am trying to get stuff sent to the Middle East (I will posting about Operation Gummi Worms soon). Also need to get a gift made for my sister.
So many ideas, so little time. I hope t0 sew by hand at the beach next week! I really enjoy writing tributes. Thanks for your endurance to read them all. I could probably be more succinct.Happy reading!
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