This morning, I was putting some designs on the walls of the room he shares with his nearly two year old sister. I was enjoying the work - despite the manifold interruptions - and the occasional "terrible two" who enjoyed peeling the vinyl back off the wall after I had applied it.
Levi is at an age when he likes to dress himself. He prefers, of all things in the middle of winter, shorts and t-shirts. This morning he was looking for a particular dinosaur t-shirt. I had found one with dragons on it, but it wasn't the one he "needed" to wear. As I had my back turned (working on the vinyl), he had, unbeknownst to me, emptied his entire shirt drawer onto their bedroom floor. Once I finally noticed this, I hollered that he needed to come in from the living room to clean up his shirts off the bedroom floor. I still find myself surprised, for some reason, when he is actually able to comprehend and complete a chore that I ask of him. He seems, in fact, to enjoy chores, and I often use sometimes meaningless chores to distract him or to keep him busy.
As it so happens, while he was cleaning up his shirts and putting them back in his drawer (considerably less folded than they had been before), his dad walked into the room. He looked at Mark and said, "Yeah, dad, I was in the other room and mom yelled to me (insert exaggerated, whiny, feminine-imitation voice here), 'Levi, you get in here and clean up these shirts!' So that's what I'm doin'." I was a little incredulous that he imitated my voice. This, evidently, is how I sound to him. I glanced back at Mark to see the wide grin on his face quickly fade to a smirk. I could tell he was amused, and I pretended to be a little annoyed at all this "making fun at mom's expense". However, I couldn't help but find it funny too... the little man he is turning out to be.
As Levi ran out of the room, Mark looked at me, and he said, "He's wearing shorts?" I said smiling, "Yes. He promises he's not going outside today."
He said, "Those shorts are dirty too. He must have dug them out of the dirty clothes."
I said, "I'm not surprised. You know, I blame you for all this male-ness."
He said, "What?"
I said, "You know, all the male-ness: dirty clothes, shorts in the winter, dumping his dresser on the floor, the mock female voice... It's all your fault."
Mark responded, "Ah... okay."
I said teasingly, "He is half male, you know."
To which Mark replied, "Oh, no, honey. He's all male."
Last night, before I put him to bed, Levi told me that he had a dream. He said, "Dad was the little boy, and I was the dad. He said that, in his dream, Mark had gotten a "hurt finger". He said, "There was blood, and I looked at it, and it was cracked off." I asked, "Did you take care of daddy?" To which he responded, "Yeah, I went and got him a bandaid." I said, "Did that help his finger that was cracked off?" He said, "Yeah, we just threw it in the garbage and he felt a lot better." I guess, since dad's all male he can get a "cracked off" finger and, with a little help from a bandaid, just walk it off.
We get a good chuckle out of many of the things our children say or do... especially the youngest two at their ages. But, having had only sisters and then daughters for so long, I am constantly amazed at what my little boy does and says.
When Mark made the "all male" comment, we laughed, and, as he left the room, I started to think about the wonder of that. A male and a female got together, and, from their union, God made one or the other who is equal parts of both yet only either male or female. Now, if you ask anyone, they'll say that he's mostly Mark from the looks of things, but I can tell, from the temper and some other less desirable traits, that he is also me.
At this time of year, my thoughts turn to another little boy - One who was born of a virgin in a stable in Bethlehem a couple millennia ago. I've always had a little trouble with the concept, or maybe rather the visualizing of, the "fully God, fully man" that Jesus is. He was all Mary yet was all God. And in life, He was truly perfect - being all God. And this conversation, although completely obvious, made things a little more clear to me. Just as Levi, being born of both me and Mark, is fully male; Jesus, being born of Mary and God, was fully God in human flesh. Neither of those little boys would have ever existed, had it not been for the bond between the entities that combined to bring them about. Just as Mary's bond with God was something He used to bring forth life - vitality - from her, my bond with God is something He uses to bring forth life in me... not just living - but vitality, vibrance, and purpose. My own life is meaningless without that bond. Yeah, I could still exist, survive, and plod through my days, and sometimes I do... but I miss out on life if I don't stay connected to the life giver.
5"I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing. - John 15:5
