Superhero 1 has always been driven.
Driven to serve.
Driven to excel.
And physically driven by this road-weary mama to every blessed cross country meet, concert, ceremony and extra-curricular for 15 amazing and exhausting and gas-guzzling years.
But these days, though he’s as focused and motivated as ever, he’s now the one doing all the driving (hallelujah and thank you, sweet baby Jesus).
And just thriving behind the wheel of his own life.
Although this go-getter had to hold a driver’s permit for a year before obtaining his full license, within three months, he’d already completed his 60 mandatory driving hours, and by the day he turned 16, he’d accrued more than 160 (because there is not a human on the planet who wanted his independence from his 15-passenger-van-driving mama more).
He purchased a habanero orange Prius for $500 from his newly retired dad, who we promised could trade in his tinker toy for a truck once he stopped commuting 80 miles per day round trip to post, and he started a trumpet lesson business to cover the cost of half of his monthly gas. (Although this high schooler first asked us how much a paint job on a Prius would cost, this cheaper-than-he-is-picky boy now proudly parades around town in a vehicle that may be the color of a traffic cone but also gets this broke boy 55 miles to the gallon.)
As a now fully licensed driver with no road restrictions (thank you, sweet state of ours, for the slow introduction to freedom and the six-month-long 9pm curfew — this 8:30-to-bedder has sung your praises all year long and is now wondering how she will possibly stay awake past 9 on weekend nights), Superhero 1 has confidently taken the keys not just to a vehicle but to most of the responsibilities in his life.
With very little input from us, this responsible and reliable young man self-manages his own calendar and his own schedule, his own money and his own time.
On the first of every month, he provides us with his anticipated budget, which includes all the money needed for everything from Bible study breakfasts to doctor appointment co-pays to trumpet lesson fees to extra-curricular dues, and we deposit the agreed-upon sum in his account. (Dear our own parents, thank you for being our sugarmamas and daddies for 18 years. We thought money grew on trees! We didn’t know! We didn’t know!)
He is the one, then, who draws all cash, makes all payments, meets all deadlines and documents all expenditures (because post-40, we are tired and lazy and just don’t feel like spending 30 hours of our week making 50,000 payments to 50,000 people — we’ve paid our dues) … and picks up as many lawn mowing, trumpet-teaching and random side jobs as possible to cover the entertainment and other half of the gas that we don’t.
This frugal fellow saves and tithes and budgets and skimps, so much so that he started sending us links to coupon apps we could use for our gas that would give both him and us points for free gift cards and products. (He’s couponed so hard this year that he’s earned himself more than one Starbucks gift card to purchase the one drug we push in this house like dealers. #Jesusandcoffeesavelives)
This Type A teenager tracks his own practices and performances and due dates and deadlines. He schedules his days and he schedules his study time, and once a week, he meets with us to align his calendar and add the family’s events to his own.
And how Super-Spouse and I have just watched in awe as the boy we have always joked is a 100-year-old man in a teenager’s body, with some new freedom and independence, has just SOARED.
(Let’s also be honest — in between a few crash-and-burn sessions. Because with a young man this fiercely independent and completely capable in the home, there’s understandably going to be some conflict and voracious wing-flapping in the breaking-free-from-the-nest season. Super-Spouse and I tell him all the time that we fully believe he could move out today and absolutely thrive in the real world. Until then, we’re thankful we get another year and a half to love on him and learn from him inside our home. This wise-beyond-his-years boy has so much to teach, and this amateur mama still has so very much more to learn. So thankful for a boy giving us the grace and space to learn together.)
As a tri-season athlete and trumpet player with 6 AP classes, a position on his youth group’s youth council, membership in two honors’ societies and multiple extra-curricular clubs, plus a Sunday night youth group and a Tuesday morning Bible study and a slew of brothers who have as many concerts and commemorations and athletic events to attend as he does, his plate is pretty full.
Through trial and error, though, this disciplined superhero is slowly learning when to say yes, when to say no and how to balance it all so beautifully … and prioritize the people and passions that matter to him most.
This year, this trumpeter who loves him a jazz rendition of “Amazing Grace” was blessed to place 1st chair as a sophomore in our county, 1st in the greater district and 5th in the freshman-sophomore class in our state. And thanks to a collection of insanely talented musicians in last year’s class, Superhero 1’s symphonic band earned a Superior rating at MPA contest and another Superior at a band festival two hours away. (Hear the video of Superhero 1’s MPA duet from contest HERE.)
In cross country, Superhero 1 surprised even himself and set a new PR this year of 16:33 on the 5K state course. He was personally blessed to place 2nd in the conference, his team placed 4th at Regionals and, thanks to the incredible work of some boys who are as hardworking as they are talented (and our very own beloved 2022 STATE CHAMPION!), the team placed 12th in the state. (Truly, you’ve never seen a sweeter or more encouraging collection of gracious and gifted runners in your life. The cross country community is his family and ours. We just love every single one like our own.)
But what makes all of us so much more proud than any of these accomplishments, though, is the way this superhero has chosen to use these gifts God has given him to glorify Him and benefit others.
He graciously (and rarely grumpily 😉) volunteers at the middle school every Wednesday an hour and a half before school even starts just to tutor younger trumpet players in our county.
He regularly enlists himself to play Taps for Memorial Day and Veterans Day services, military occasions and military balls, for the veterans he feels so strongly about serving in this life.
(See video from our town’s Memorial Day service HERE.)
Last month, this student athlete used his love for running to serve as the course coordinator for the Moving Mountains 5K our church organized and executed. He made more than 130 runner bibs, personally measured and marked the 3-mile course and even drew a map (that looked like a kindergarten art project — because art, and caring about art, is not his gifting). He gathered and directed more than 25 course volunteers … and at the end of the day, by the grace of God alone, helped our little church raise more than $11,000 for adoption and orphan care.
And last spring, he trained up Superhero 3 and ran right beside him, encouraging him all the way, so that this budding little runner could complete his first ever 5K.
Superhero 3, who shares a super special bond with Superhero 1, didn’t want to do it with anyone else but him.
Though he might not be outwardly affectionate or gushingly affirming (this straight shooter is a believer in the fewer words, the better — a trait he clearly gets from me), Superhero 1 demonstrates love by constantly and meaningfully serving the family every. Single. Day.
Acts of service is his love language, and serving is his gift. He doesn’t allow me to pull in the driveway without walking outside to make sure I don’t need help with the groceries. He doesn’t exit a room without asking if there is anything he can first do to help. This month, I’ve woken up to texts after long mama days asking what or who he could take off my plate so I could get more sleep or the family could have more rest.
This summer, he canceled his afternoon plans to spend an entire day rewiring and installing lighting fixtures, just so his dad didn’t have to come after a long day at work and do it. (Thank you, former Odyssey life and YouTube, for the gift of a boy who both knows how to wire and how to figure out what he doesn’t know. If he weren’t so ready for independence, I’d beg to keep him forever.)
This fall, he returned from a weekend-long spiritual retreat to an entire house full of people and a co-op Friendsgiving dinner. Though his introvert battery was dead and he could barely manage small talk and words, he still stayed up folding every chair, breaking down every table and washing every last dish in the house, refusing to let me do it by myself with a husband sick in the back room.
As an action-oriented, servant-hearted introvert, he’s a stable, consistent, behind-the-scenes helper at heart.
Which is perhaps one of the reasons he’s decided he wants to serve in the medical field.
His entire life long, Superhero 1 has only had two career dreams — to become a chef (which he quickly traded in for someday running a side business as a seafood truck owner), and to become an orthopedic surgeon.
Ever since he studied bones in Mrs. Vaughan’s 3rd grade classroom, he’s been fascinated by them and wanted to be the one who operates on them. When Super-Spouse retired from the military and began working for an orthopedic surgeon himself two years ago, we were sure that would seal the deal for Superhero 1.
But then this laser-focused boy attended the Duke Medical Camp this summer … and he came home 10 days later with a pivot.
“I’m 80 percent sure I actually want to be a physician assistant,” he told us.
When we, surprised at the change in direction after seven years of orthopedic surgeon dreams, asked him to tell us more, he explained that the Duke camp had 100 percent confirmed his passion for medicine. (The kid was absolutely in his element as he met and shadowed medical professionals, learned the basics of anatomy and physiology, learned how to take vitals and dissected a cow eyeball, among other things, during his nearly two weeks on campus.)
But he also recognized, as a nearly life-long military brat, how much he loves adventure and change.
“If I become an orthopedic surgeon, I’ll be doing that for the rest of my life,” he said. “After listening to the medical students on the board talk, I loved the idea that as a P.A., I could become a generalist and work in whatever specialty I wanted. And I could change specialties if I got bored after 10 years.”
It didn’t hurt that the time in school for a physician assistant is five to seven years, while the time in school for an orthopedic surgeon is double that.
So he started deeply researching the P.A. profession.
He spent time shadowing his dad at his job.
And, after a lot of prayer, this extremely practical and logical kid decided pretty solidly that he indeed thinks he wants to become a physician assistant.
He’s so confident, in fact, that he already researched compressed, dual enrollment bachelor-to-master P.A. programs that allow entering college freshmen to graduate without reapplying to grad school or taking the GRE in just FIVE TOTAL YEARS.
Efficiency and intensity in one academic package?
This hard studier was sold.
So even though he’s only a junior, for the last few months, he’s been writing college scholarship applications and studying for the SAT and doing the things needed to be a qualified candidate for the six to eight extremely competitive P.A. direct enrollment programs he plans to now apply to in the fall.
And it’s been hands-down one of the most fun seasons of teenage life so far.
Viewing the world through his eyes has given us this new and beautiful appreciation for Superhero 1’s perspective and passions. It’s sparked conversations about practicalities and priorities, and it’s allowed us to get to know him and his desires on this new and deeper level.
He’s poured hours into editing and exchanging essays with me (because when you don’t know the difference between “your” and “you’re”, a mama with a journalism degree and a background in editing occasionally comes in handy), and he has melted my heart with his discipline and dedication.
Writing is likely his least favorite activity of all time, possibly ranking just before spending large quantities of time in huge crowds of strangers who want to talk in high decibels about their feelings. And yet, he’s disciplined himself to do the hard thing and, through literally HOURS and hours of revisions, crafted some of the most beautiful and meaningful pieces I’ve had the privilege of editing this college application year. His take on veterans and Taps and the service that he feels passionately called to provide for those who have served our country has brought me many editing days to tears. He has poured his heart into these essays … and simultaneously richly blessed ME by revealing a little more of the heart that he usually keeps so close to the vest.
It’s been one of my favorite things in life so far.
That, and spending time in community with him and his precious group of friends.
When I dreamed about teenage life, I never knew that this season would be so rich in rewards or relationships or FUN. My own mama hung a sign that read, “Mothers of teenagers know why animals eat their young” in our kitchen my entire teen life long.
I, as a teenager, made that statement true.
So I kind of just expected to want to die.
I never expected to fall in love with the kids my kid fell in love with or want to just adopt them as my own. My favorite place to be this year has been ringing cowbells on the sidelines with these people in his community, getting to hear their stories, getting front-row seats to what God is doing in their big and beautiful lives. This generation of bright and brilliant and boldly unique young people has taught me so much, and the conversations I’ve had the privilege of sharing about hearts and minds and dreams and futures in airsoft-playing backyards and around farmhouse kitchen tables and on beachy road trips in big vans has been such a blessing and an honor.
These young men and women make my heart beat, and I just ADORE them.
We sometimes joke that Superhero 1 is anti-fun. He hates charades and loud party games and anything that involves extreme silliness and lots of people. He just stares blankly at the cute baby animals his brothers could oogle over for hours, and matching anything in this life is not fun in his book; it’s cheesy. He’s not a fan of theme parties or game nights or all the other things four members of the household adore and one other member of the household puts up with for his theme-loving, party-loving wife.
Exhibit A: His contribution to the Mario family theme costume this year. A mushroom hat. (F-, Superhero 1. Your uncle gave you an F-.)
And so, if we’re just being honest, over the years, it’s occasionally felt like pulling teeth to pull him in to “family fun.”
What we’ve come to realize, though, is that what’s really fun for Superhero 1 is not necessarily the Dunder Mifflin matching t-shirts on The Office tours or the games of make-your-own charades or the spontaneous kitchen dance parties or the things the rest of us may do to laugh together.
It’s actually being outdoors, spending time with a small group of people and participating in and working toward the things he really loves.
Fun for him is digging in to a Saturday morning 10-mile run and practicing that second nightly hour of trumpet to meet his first chair goals and even going the extra mile to study hard for that test in that subject that brings his biology-loving heart to life. Fun for him is pursuing goals and investing in his passion and spending time with this small, beautiful friend group who shares his love for running and who often spends their social time meeting up for runs together.
And over the last years, we’ve come to respect that fun for him may look different than fun for us. And so what has become the MOST fun thing for us is participating in the results of the hard work he calls fun.
Attending his concerts.
(Hear our favorite jazz solo of all time HERE.)
Relishing his moving rendition of Taps.
(See video from Veterans Day HERE.)
Cheering for him at track and cross country meets.
(See video of the first meet of junior year HERE.)
Researching future possibilities together.
And finding those common loves among us of outdoor exploring and morning running and tent camping and mountain traveling and then enjoying those things together as frequently as we can.
Superhero 1’s 16th birthday trip to Alaska was absolutely, positively, hands-down one of the most fun things I’ve ever done in my entire life. I will forever treasure that week getting to see the world through his adventurous eyes. Because what we’ve discovered is that at the end of the day, the travel and adventure that are the rewards for hard work are some of the most fun things in Superhero 1’s world and life.
Superhero 1, we know we’ve experienced our share of joy and conflict these last few years as we’ve both learned how this growing-up thing works. We are amateur parents in an amateur class faking it ‘til we make it with a boy so capable and independent that, thank God, he and Jesus have really done all the raising around here. (Praise the Lord, because all I’ve got to contribute to this parenting gig is a huge mug of morning coffee that you brew for me every day. Sidenote: I think this means you can’t ever move out.)
Thank you for the grace as we learn to love you well and honor this amazing man God has created you to be. He has built in you something so unique and special and something we just love to celebrate.
We know we are the most uncool, unhip parents around, and we’re just so thankful you let us drive a 15-passenger van and ring a cowbell on the sidelines of your life.
We believe in you. We adore you. And we know God has the very biggest plans for that motivated, devoted, action-oriented servant’s heart.
We have no doubts you’re going to leave this house and change this world next year.
We can’t wait to pitch a tent and watch you and your God out on adventure together.
