One

Oh my son, tomorrow you’re one.

And you’ve won the totality of our hearts.

You’re contagious and catching and charming,

our visions, our dreams, you’re you, and they are already so true.

We knew you would be strong, we’ve prayed , we pray this for you each day.

And still, you amaze us with your wild, your you.

You’re just one, our son,

but we dream for you,

to fulfill nothing less than what you were designed, formed,

intricately purposed for from the time began.

There’s a place for you, son, no, not just a place,

but a divine niche carefully etched out for you, that you’ll meet and fit and be meant for.

Perhaps it will be a smooth journey, a direction clear and illuminated by great domino successes.

But, more likely, perhaps,

as it seems many men with great dreams must endeavor through,

your pilgrimage will be full of competing, illusive decisions, darkened corners that you must wait in, seemingly stagnant, for seasons.

And so, my son, you’ll wait, and you’ll wrestle, desiring more, needing more, craving more than, at times, at that moment, this life has to offer.

May Greater Strength carry you then.

The strength we have prayed for since we knew of you.

The strength of great inventors, untamed adventurers, persevering scholars, dedicated visionaries.

The strength of loyal men, faithful husbands, sacrificing fathers.

Wise men who face failures and defeat but continue in strength.

Fulfilled by nothing less than the One alone who gives this strength.

Tristan Michael, you are strong, you are joy, you are wild,

you are one.