The boys and I have an unspoken agreement that we’ve adopted over the years. When the days run long or their hearts are heavy, they can ask for "just me” time.
What "just me” time looks like is entirely up to them.
For Mason, it’s usually a movie and popcorn. Ezra is more of a thinker, so his plans change based on how he’s feeling in the moment.
Sometimes, we “work out” on the patio to get some energy out. (His push-up form needs work, but we’re getting there.)
Other days, we might go to the park or jump on the trampoline together. (My ninja moves and lower back aren’t what they once were.)
But more recently, he popped into my office with a concerned expression on his face.
After a brief pause, he asked timidly if we could take a drive in the truck.
Those big brown eyes stared intently from behind disheveled glasses. I could tell he was trying to discern a response, anxiously bracing for a “too busy” or a “not right now.”
And admittedly, his nervousness was warranted. This season of life has been heavy and consuming for our family.
"Sure – how 'bout we go get some slushies?"
"Yeah, with Nerds in it!"
"I can make that happen."
The ride over was quiet. As soon as we parked with our treats, he clambered over the console and into the passenger's seat. His little hands rested gently near my arm, fingernails still dirty from the day's adventures.
We sat for several minutes listening to music, not saying anything of much substance. He regaled me with the details of his newest LEGO creations and video game accomplishments.
It was such a weirdly tense, unusual…humbling interaction with my boy.
I realized, in those moments, that he wasn’t just craving attention. It was real connection that he was after – specific and exclusive connection with me.
Ezra was seeking all the intimacy and affirmations and reassurance that a father should continually give to his son.
At only four years old, he needs all the same things that I need in adulthood.
He needs more than half-answered questions from a face buried in an iPhone.
He needs clear examples of love – deep, abiding love through difficulty and beauty alike.
He needs to know I think about him, pray for him – specifically and intentionally. Just him.
Shaping and caring for a little heart.
What a precious burden to bear.
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