Mr. Porter, Age Four

If you were to ask my son how old he is today he would, with great enthusiasm, declare, "I am four years old, just like my best friend, Jacob!!!" The additional exclamation marks only underscores the zeal by which he announces to the world his age.

Four years. Four. I try to get my mind around the life of this little man who has been such a source of joy and happiness for Shannon and me and try to remember that there was a time when he was only a wish and a prayer. He is my son. Years ago, around this time of the year, a fertility specialist pretty much dashed our hopes of ever having children. "It is possible," he stated with obvious false hopes but with the expected caveat that he is no prognosticator of the divine, "that you could conceive. But, you should not get your hopes up."

Tonight we celebrated the fourth year of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, once again reminding us that it is He that commands the morning. It is He that says, "Thus far and no farther" to the seas. And it is He that told the aging Abraham that he would be a father of many nations.

Tonight we celebrated Timothy's birthday. We played, we went out to dinner, we laughed, and we watched Superman (his favorite cartoon). And dad enjoyed every minute of it.

In the four years that he has been in our lives, I have seen Timothy learn to talk, walk, jump, run, play, read, and write. I have seen him count to ten, twenty, one hundred. I have heard him count to diez, and I have heard him count to zehn. I have heard him sing in Spanish and English.

In the short life he has had, I have seen him walk halfway to Niagra Falls before needing Dad to pick him up and carry him and Teddy.

Tim takes his life very seriously, especially that part about having fun and being a kid. He is a kid with all his might.

When Dad comes home from work, Tim becomes Superman and I become the nebulous and ethereal "Bad People." When Tim kisses his sister goodnight, he says, "Good night, Wonder Woman." And Alexa whispers back, "Good night, Superman." The next morning, I am Green Lantern and he is Batman. Sometimes, I am "a giant octopus" and he is any of about a dozen super heroes.

But, at the end of the day, Tim is just a little boy who has all the imagination, dreams, and aspirations that a little boy should have.

And he is our son. Our boy.

And we have the Lord to thank for him.