Yesterday, I had a teacher tell me that my son is "an unusual little boy." I know this. I've known this for years. As a friend said "he's just more inside his head than other kids."

But somehow, hearing it from a teacher really hit me. They tested his reading and his level is extremely high, and they've noticed that he's got a complexity for numbers. But she said "and yet he also forgets to put eyes on faces he draws or he won't even notice the entire class moving from the front to the back of the room." I had an ache in my gut that I can't explain. I came home and started surfing, looking up things like autism and aspergers.

And then we went outside to play soccer, and I know he's just fine. He runs and he teases and he laughs and he fights and he talks like a grown-up to his little brother. He's just spooky smart, and I don't think people are totally comfortable with that.

Including myself.

This is the hard part, admitting it just makes me cry. But God talked to me about it this morning. I just want my little boy to fit in, because to me, fitting in equats to a happy life. But God didn't make my kid that way. He made him the way He wanted him, and then He gave my son to me to take care of. See, he's not really my kid. He's God's kid. And the message I got was this: "you can't raise him yourself. You need me. He'll be fine, just come to me when you have questions."

So I will. And everything WILL be just fine. And who knows? Maybe someday, my little boy will invent something cool, or find a cure for cancer, or get married and have smart little kids. It's exciting to think about, the possibilities instead of the hurdles.