“I don’t want to drink my milk.  I don’t want to grow.
I don’t want to get too heavy.  I don’t want to get bigger.”

“I want to go to heaven.  I wish I could just die now.”

At first glance, these are alarming sentences from a five-year-old.

Eating disorder?  Body image, less common in boys but still possible?  God, help me… does he not want to live anymore?

I probed gently into these topics, maintaining an expression of zero concern.  I didn’t want him to put his words away if he thought the sight of them would scare me.

“Tell me more about that, buddy.”

“I don’t want to grow because I don’t want to be too big when I get to heaven.  If I’m too big, then I can’t play horsey with Daddy.  I wish I could just go now, while I’m still small, while he can still lift me.”

Oh, Tyler. My heart breaks with the things that worry you

“Buddy, I have good news: in heaven, every daddy can hold his son.  It doesn’t matter how big you are or how old he is – none of that matters there.  You can wrestle and play, climb all over him, and he’ll know just who you are and how you love to play.”

“So I can drink my milk?”

“You can drink your milk.”

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