Today in my son’s seventh birthday. Seven years ago, when he was born, I was on an overnight trip to Atlanta. He was born six weeks premature. I guess he was in a hurry to get here and to get on with things. And I don’t think his attitude has changed. This weekend, he informed me, “I am seven now. So I am almost a man.” Well, not quite. But he is surely on his way. For months, he has been asking me when he will be able to shave. I told him it will be a while. But I recently bow him a toy shaving kit. When I returned home from work, his kit was in my bathroom – right next to mine. When I asked him about it, he gladly announced, “I am you daddy!” In fact, he regularly offers me a trade: “Daddy, from now on, I’m H.B. Charles Jr. And you be H.B. Charles III.” No deal. I keep reminding him, “You are not me.” But, secretly, it is really cool that my son wants to be like me. I hope I do not do anything to mess that up. And I pray that the God would saved him and bless him to grow as Jesus grew: in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men (Luke 2:52).