He walks through the living room, his boots clapping the wood floor, legs like tree trunks, voice booming — he is such a big kid.

In my mind’s eye I see a toddler waddling towards me, saggy diaper swinging, chubby legs like dough, dimples and rolls and innocent eyes looking at me – still.

They say, don’t blink.

I blinked.

“Mom, it hit me, how did I get to be a junior in high school? Like, I’m kind of a big deal.”

I laugh. We laugh. Yes you are (like) a really a big deal, Zach. You are.

He’s quiet and loud, if that makes any sense at all. He’s little and big, humble and proud. He’s our son, and I want to screech the brakes on time because I know how it feels when they stumble and fall and fly from the nest.

So we turn the page on time. We grab every hug we can: the ones that are drenched in sweat and tears from the football game; the ones that are fresh with the scent of cologne in the morning; the off-to-school and out-the-door, and before-the-date and after-dinner ones. I’m always asking for these hugs. And the other day I got my favorite kind, the one that he offers to give me. “Hey mom, come here, let me give you a hug. I love you mom. I see all you do and I appreciate you so much.”

Bigger than me now, his largeness makes me small, that baby I wrestled like an animal to be still on my hip. His voice now is the voice of life, the voice of laughter, the voice of promise.

He had a school project — to write a paper about leaders who have influenced his life — and he chose me as one of the four. He wanted to know how our ministry leads people, so I sent him my bio and description of what we do.

He texts me:

“Wow I really overthought that. U are like a really big deal. What the heck.”

I laugh. “Not really,” I text back.

I told him if I were to die tomorrow I’d say my greatest accomplishments are being a wife, a mom, a daughter, a sister, a friend to some of the greatest people on earth.

But if you really think about it, none of these are accomplishments. They are gifts. Privileges. Blessings.

So today, look at what’s in front of you, not what’s behind you.

See the gifts.

And don’t blink.

Because these little peeps become big peeps.

And they are (like) a really big deal.