Asher James, it's hard to believe that seven years have passed since you entered the world. I still remember the longing I felt to hold you, how deeply we ached to add to our family, how much more difficult it was than we expected. We walked through years that were empty and we navigated floods of grief we didn't know we would face. And then you came along.
It still surprises me, how easily you entered into the world. Pregnancy was pregnancy, often uncomfortable, sometimes joyful, fraught with worry and waiting. My back ached as I carried your nine pound form in breech position until you finally flipped at the last possible second. Our arms ached to hold a little one after years of disappointment and loss. Your big brother couldn't wait for his baby to arrive. He knew of the babies we lost before. Everyone was already anticipating you eagerly, and yet you made us wait a few days longer for your arrival, passing your due date and making the summer heat feel more unbearable. And then without complication, as textbook as any labor and childbirth could be, you arrived promptly just in time for church on a Sunday morning.
That's still your way. Often, I find myself waiting for you as you take your time with daily tasks. Generally, I am more impatient than I should be. If I would give you your own time, I am sure it would be perfect. You were the baby who came when we thought we might stop trying. You flipped into the head down position just in time to be born without surgical intervention. You did whatever babies do to make themselves appear just before we decided we might have to coax you out with medical assistance. All in your own time. Just at the right time. You never have wanted to be rushed.
So much about you is exactly what we needed, exactly when we needed it. You were born in the summertime, and summer is your season. You bring the spirit of leisurely summer days to our world, with your unhurried approach to life. You embody the times everyone is anxiously waiting for in spring, the anticipation of long days days full of sunshine spent by the pool, and longer evenings spent sharing backyard barbecues with friends. You are fearless, fun-seeking, social. To you, every day is vacation, with a world around you to explore and people you enjoy by your side.
You were born in the middle of our three children, and your laid-back, independent spirit fits so perfectly in that space of our family. You love to do things on your own, and you enjoy helping others when they need it as well. You adore and will follow your older brother anywhere, yet you delight in having the role of protector and leader and boss when it comes to your baby sister as well. Being both little brother and big is a special job that you seem well-suited to. You are independent as the leader, content to be in the crowd, and also willing to follow those ahead of you. Like the filling in a cookie or the good stuff in a sandwich, we're not complete unless we have both the outsides and the center. We need you in the middle.
You were born in a season of grief, and you replaced that shadow with joy in a way I never would have believed was possible. You embody your name in ways we couldn't imagine. We named you Asher, which means happiness, because you were our happy blessing after lost babies. Your middle name is James for your great-grandpa you couldn't know, but we didn't think much about how it meant "to supplant." But supplant you did, casting away our grief for what was lost and filling our lives with gladness. You were the most happy, smiling, contented baby I had ever seen. You were a baby who slept--something we didn't know was possible. And you are still bringing joy and gladness to everyone around you, always ready with a smile and a story and your boundless enthusiasm.
This year you are swimming like a fish, jumping off the diving board over and over again, your grin at the surface just as big every single time. You were tall enough for big roller coasters this summer, and while they didn't all meet your expectations, you found the parts you liked about them and chose to focus on the good. You are excited to be able to read real stories now, chapter books, and you tackle them with determination, working out the big words for yourself whenever you can. You're riding a big-kid bike, stretching your abilities and independence.
My prayer for you as you turn another year older, and for every year to come, is that you always keep these qualities about you. I pray you can find yourself in the right place at the right time, just by following your own clock. I hope you keep your summertime spirit, ready to take things slow and soak up the sun or find the next adventure with a smile on your face. I pray you always feel right at home where you are. Whether you lead, or are in the middle, or when you follow, may you always know yourself and keep your independence. I hope you can always find joy, focusing on the positive, and delighting in the simple things. Your spirit is contagious. You are just what our family always needed. The world is better because you are in it. I hope you feel that way today, at seven, and I pray you will always know it to be true.
