I Can & I Can’t. I Will & I Won’t.

Dear My Children,

I can’t

or I won’t

pay the full cost of your first car.

Your father and I probably won’t be footing the bill for your entire college education.

The latest fashions at Abercrombie (or fill-in-blank-overpriced-popular-store-at-your-appropriate-age) won’t be paid for out of my debit card.

I might not be able to afford one hundred percent locally grown, organic foods from the Whole Foods market for every meal.

I can’t promise to answer “yes” to every question of “Can I?” that you will inevitably present to me.

You will have opportunities that you will have to miss.

Parties you will not be allowed to attend.

You will hear the word “no”.

But here’s what I can do.

What I will do.

I will make you a priority.

Your well-being . . . physically, emotionally and spiritually . . . will be my primary concern.

It will be my job.

And I can provide some other things too.

Things better, more important, than the overstuffed closet of clothes you hope will make you popular.

I will keep the best sudsing, bubble making, soap available on the market under our sink for every time your bubble wand runs out.

I will allow you to eat a scoop of peanut butter every time you say you have the hiccups – even if you cannot consistently prove said hiccups.

I will drop what I am doing when you request a cuddle or you ask me to read you a book about sharks or a chapter of Watership Down.

I’ll be sure your Legos are always piled high and  I can make certain that you have several afternoons each week where you have the time to just play with those Legos.

I promise to keep great literature on the shelves of our home so you can know where you want to go and how to get there.

I will provide the homemade whipped cream for all of the blackberries we pick from the path behind our house.

I will drive you to streams, walk with you into the woods, paint pictures with you of the setting sun and the rabbit who lives in our backyard.

I can keep the art shelf stocked full of brushes and paper and really good pens that are designed for grown ups because you aren’t just a kid drawing – you are an artist creating.

I can make sure your stomach is satisfied with healthy foods.

I can teach you how to bake cookies and make a mean fettucini alfredo.

I can’t control your future or fatten your bank account or force you to make good decisions.

I will point you to the God who rescued me.

I will encourage you to see that there is only one safe place for your heart to reside.

I won’t promise you happiness or prosperity.

I won’t lie to you or pretend pain isn’t real or act as if the world isn’t broken.

I can’t save you.

But I can tell you the truth and live a life of transparency.

I can pick hope and choose joy.

And you can too.

You can.

Or you can’t.

I guess that’s really the biggest “can” you’ll ever get.

You can choose.