It's a phase. At least that's what I keep telling myself. I found myself hiding my laughter when he didn't want to go to bed and yelled "I'm grouchy. Don't look at me." Other instances aren't as funny - like when he gets frustrated because he doesn't get his way and it results in "No, I don't love you anymore. You're not my best friend." REALLY?! You're 3 and we had to go there?!
For someone who doesn't share my DNA, this little man of mine sure does act a lot like me. It seems uncanny that at times I feel we practically share a personality. I realize the nurture argument proves true in this case, but I also like to think that part of who God planned him to be is someone who resembles so much of what I see in myself.
I don't look at him and see a mirror reflection. He doesn't have my nose or either one of our eye color. His blonde hair doesn't resemble any likeness of mom or dad. Don't get me wrong - to those who don't know that he's adopted, most would never know he is. But it's not what's on the outside that matters - in this case.
More than just the personality traits or moments of resemblance that I see in this little life, I also realize the true reflection I should see in him.
"I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother...and in your mother...and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also." 2 Timothy 1:5
This is the kind of verse I need to paint in giant letters across every door frame. Yes, I should strive to live a godly life. I should seek to be holy as He is holy. I know my calling to live a life above reproach. But when I truly realize that my faith - whether it be sincere or an absolute fraud - is being lived out in front of my child...well, there's a big serving of "reality check" to go along with my humble pie.
Oh let it be said of me that my "sincere faith" is the legacy I am passing on to my young, impressionable son. Sure, I can recite scripture verses to him and read him bible stories at bedtime. I can help him understand the nativity scene and its prominent place under the Christmas tree. I sing songs of how Jesus loves him. I can even get him to shine his little light as he sings along with me. But if I am not practicing in deed what I'm telling him in word, then I am giving him nothing but an empty inheritance.
I am now distinctly aware that what I want written about me at the end of my life is the verse that says my authentic faith is what continues to live on in the life of my child...and my children's children.
This isn't about getting my book published or my CD released. It's not about making a name for myself at all. This is about making sure there's a name written in the Lamb's Book of Life. This is about a temporary existence leading to an eternal significance. I do pray he is "just like me" ...right behind my prayer to be just like Him.