“The miracle of children is that we just don’t know how they will change or who they will become.” ~Eileen Kennedy-Moore

Twenty-eight years ago today, we met him for the first time. Caleb Jeffrey Stewart made his debut at 9:53 am that cold, clear winter morning at Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas - the week after the Dallas Cowboys won the Super Bowl by beating the Buffalo Bills 52 - 17. My doctor and his assistant had both traveled to Pasadena, CA to attend that game, and the main topic of conversation during my C-section was how amazing Troy Aikman and Emmitt Smith played the game. I remember wishing they would be a little more focused on the task at hand - didn't they realize they were helping to bring into this world someone way more important than Troy or Emmitt? 

I'm not the same person I was back then. I think everyone can say that of themselves when they look back over 28 years. But a big part of the reason I'm different has a lot to do with that eight-pound bundle of joy who entered my world that day.

Caleb was born into a home of introverts. I have always tended to be on the quiet side until you get to know me. I was also born with the proclivity to approach life from the side of caution, inclined to be more serious about most things. Jeff is much the same. 

When Caleb entered our lives, his two-year-old sisters were both painfully shy. Sarah and Becca didn't take well to strangers, and they also were slow to warm up to people they knew. I remember inviting some friends from church over one evening, and they were amazed to see the girls twirling and laughing together in the living room of our home - I think prior to that they had the impression that Sarah and Becca just sat silently staring into space or sitting in my lap all the time because that's the image they portrayed to the world around them outside of our home.

Enter Caleb. We've often wondered aloud where he came from. From his earliest days, he exuded joy. As soon as he was old enough to interact with people, he did so. I remember my 18-month-old son in a stroller who would say, "Hi!" very enthusiastically to anyone he encountered at the library, increasing his volume until he got a response. He would do the same to the men serving the Lord's Supper at church until I learned to clamp my hand over his mouth in anticipation of such greetings. I can also remember the three-year-old version of Caleb who made friends with the older gentleman at our local grocery store who sacked our groceries for us. He would ask on the way to the store if Mr. Kenneth would be there, and he would get genuinely excited to see him each week. 

As Caleb grew, so did his enthusiasm for life and people. I remember one day at the end of ladies' Bible class how Caleb passed out "notes" he had scribbled for each of the ladies in attendance. He loved going to the grocery store with me, standing up in the cart, and singing either "Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus" or the Ten Plagues song. Just imagine the looks we got as he belted out the ending "... locust, thick darkness, death of the firstborn!" It's a small wonder no one called CPS.

                                                                                    

Caleb was well-known at the girls' school before he was old enough to attend. He had two of the aides at Cain Elementary wrapped around his little finger as he charmed them each afternoon when we would be waiting to pick up his sisters at the end of their school day. He called one of them, "my friend," and the other one, "my lady." He is Facebook friends with both of them to this day. His first-grade teacher told me that she predicted Caleb would grow up to be either a preacher or a politician. I'm thankful that he preaches sometimes and avoided the politician route.

In high school, Caleb could be found on Friday nights leading the band in the "roller coaster." He once even led the entire crowd in the same at Fantasmic while at Disney World on a band trip. He has always found complete joy in the smallest things, milking every single experience for all it's worth. If there's one phrase that comes to mind when thinking about Caleb's life to this point, it would have to be "Best Day Ever." I cannot tell you how many "best days ever" he's had!

This boy - this man - who has jumped out of an airplane (and somehow convinced his dad to join him in that),  traveled to Guatemala on medical mission trips, made countless balloon animals for children, enjoys woodburning and photography, loves his dog Ranger (who he has trained to be a therapy dog), enjoys his niece and nephews to the extreme, loves hunting, befriends everyone, and above all else has a passion for his God, has changed my life profoundly.

Because of Caleb, I've learned to find joy in the smallest things, to stretch myself, to not take myself so seriously, to love more deeply, and to make every day my "best day ever." It has been my unique privilege to have a front-row seat to watching Caleb grow from that joyful, friendly child into the giving, caring, joyful man he has become.  

Happy Birthday, Bud! I'm overwhelmed that God chose me to be your mother, and I'm so thankful He did! I pray that your next 28 years will be as overflowingly joyful as your first 28 have been as you continue to follow in the steps of your Savior. And I hope today really is the Best Day Ever.

“To be a mother of a son is one of the most important things you can do to change the world. Raise them to respect women, raise them to stand up for others, raise them to care for the earth, raise them to be kind, compassionate and honest. If you do these things you are raising a leader-- someone that will affect the lives of countless people... " ~Shannon L. Alder