My son’s father and I have remained friends. We have no legal custody or child support agreement and, for the most part, have worked together cohesively as parents. My current relationship, however, has been a source of contention for many reasons. As I came to realize the impact this might have on my son, and on his self-esteem, I became determined to do something about it, preemptively.

So, I created a possibility. I squashed the vision I’d had of the baseball game and decided it simply wasn’t acceptable. Instead, I replaced it with a new and powerful vision of a community around my son; one that encompassed all of the people who love him the most working together, being together, on his behalf. This was no small feat. As I said, my ex-husband and current partner have, for lack of a better term, bad blood. There are a number of things at the source of that, each of them insignificant to this story. What there really is to get is that these two men, who both love my child tremendously, could barely engage in two minutes of small talk. Yet, I was committed to creating this community for Micah.

How was I going to do this? The same way I do everything, by enrolling other people in the possibilities I create. I started sharing my vision with these two men. I shared about my fears for Micah, about what I wanted for him and how I thought it was possible, if we were all able to put our love for him above everything else. My partner now was more open, in large part because he’s been in the same work that I have over the past year. Micah’s dad was dismissive, but I was determined to live in my possibility. I kept sharing with him, from a place of love and commitment to our son. And, a few days into December, I got a phone call. It was my incredibly brave, loving, wonderful father, ex-husband telling me that he would like for the four of us to go downtown, to see Santa, a Christmas tradition I had since my own childhood, that I’d started with Micah since birth.

For Christmas, and for Micah’s 5th birthday, we spent a magical night together, as a family.

Merry Christmas, and always remember that anything you can dream up, you can create. 

“This evening my husband and I took our son out for ice cream. Afterward, we decided to head to the park. It was getting late, but the weather was beautiful and there are only so many summer nights like these.

We weren’t there long before I noticed a child and his mother arguing. The boy, maybe 8, was refusing to get off of the slide and let the other children have a turn. My son, who is two, was one of the children waiting in line. I tried my best not to listen as the mom quietly pleaded with her child to get up. I tried not to listen as he threatened her in a way that made me nervous for her. I tried not to listen as the stress in her voice grew into desperation.

I told my son to play on a different slide. I didn’t want this mother to have to deal with more of a scene than she already was. I’ve been there. We all have. Kids have tantrums. It’s part of growing up. I looked to her and smiled, as warmly as I possibly could, to let her know that it was okay for my son to play on another slide.

But what I really wanted was to hug her. I wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay. I wanted to tell her that she was a great mom. I wanted her to know how strong she is. I wanted to tell her that she was doing a great job. I wanted to tell her that her son was perfect. He was different. I could see in her eyes that she was exhausted from what was likely a constant series of quarrels just like the one that was transpiring there. But I could see, too, that she loved her son with every bone in her body. I could see that she only wanted him to be happy.

I tried my best to encourage Micah to play with him, to talk with him. The two boys were worlds apart, but I wanted that boy to feel liked. I wanted that mom to feel that her child was accepted. And I want, more than all of that, to raise a child that will love and accept all of God’s children without judgement.

I have been very blessed with a healthy, happy child. I can’t begin to understand this mom’s struggle. But I can understand the love she has for her little boy. And I want to say to that mom, YOU ARE AMAZING. YOUR SON IS AMAZING. YOU ARE BOTH FEARFULLY AND WONDERFULLY MADE.”