In your moments of confusion, do you give your heart permission to speak freely?
I smiled, walking towards him across the playground, just a few steps away.
I watched his chubby little legs stand up as he’d done a million times, climbing out of the sandbox, when his feet slipped out from under the sandy slope.
His two-year-old summer-sunned body lunged forward, head first into the corner edge of a play structure.
I run, hoping to only find tears, a bump and a bruise on CJ.
Parents suddenly pressed around me as I held my baby close. I’m rocking, while inspecting, shushing and calmly repeating, as if on automated script, “It’s okay… It’s okay…”
I pour water on him from the water bottle I had with me. I can’t see. Dark red pooling in the gash on his forehead.
“Is he going to die?” older brother TJ asked, his five-year-old voice echoed with worry.
“No, sweetie.” I strap crying CJ into the stroller, maneuver the crinkled bandaid I keep in my purse onto his head, and swallow the fear that is swelling in my throat and pounding in my head . “C’mon. Let’s go. To the doctor’s… Now.”
Last week was one of the most important weeks of the summer. I was counting down the last days before TJ would start his life as kindergartner. Lots of errands to run, paperwork to fill out. But, it was also a wonderful time to catch lazy summer days at the park with sprinklers and sand.
As I clicked CJ’s belt on in the carseat, seeing my son hurt, my response was confusion.
I was just a few seconds from sitting down to dig in the sand with him. I could’ve caught his fall.
Why did you let this happen?
I would’ve never chosen to talk to God this way. But, that is what my heart asked. Unfiltered.
Moment of Need
He didn’t answer my question. Instead, without missing a beat, God spoke into my frantic state with an overwhelming calming thought — like a blanket putting out igniting flames.
His eye could have been injured. Thank God it’s just his head and not his sight.
The danger of a concussion — and the ugliness of a scar — still had it’s hook in my mind.
But God had stepped onto the scene.
God was there in my moment of need.
I knew He was riding with me in the car, even when the extent of the injury was unknown.
Earlier that morning, I meditated on a verse I didn’t realize would come to my rescue —
“For the mountains may be removed and the hills may shake,
But My lovingkindness will not be removed from you,
And My covenant of peace will not be shaken,”
says the Lord who has compassion over you.”
~ Isaiah 54:10
His Lovingkindness — not removed.
His Covenant of peace — not shaken.
Compassion — the Lord has over you.
Do you run into moments of confusion during the day?
Give Yourself Permission
We try to safeguard ourselves against confusion. We plan, we double-check, we pray. But God stands ready to step into our confusion.
We sometimes feel like we have to have hide our fears and our doubts.
But, God welcomes them because He welcomes us.
God is big enough to absorb each time our world shakes — whether with silent tremors or big rippling effects.
When you are worried about what you have to go through, remember the Lord’s hands are open and ready for you: His lovingkindness, His covenant of peace, His compassion.
Give your heart permission to speak.
God may not answer the why, but He will answer and give you everything you need to get through the what. Himself.
In other words, everything your heart needs.
The good news is there was no concussion. My cute pie is alive.
But, a story doesn’t have to be perfect in order to be beautifully God-breathed.
I know things could have turned out differently.
In the end, I did have to spend a couple hours in a confined space at urgent care with a crying toddler and restless boy, while I ran worst-case scenarios in my head and played an unbearable number of made-up games. Slight version of torture, if you ask me.
I did have to burrito wrap my body around CJ to hold him down, as needle and thread sewed him up in stitches.
But, I finished the day thanking God. He gave my heart space to speak freely.
In turn, He lovingly carried me through the ordeal, big enough to handle all my fears with His lovingkindness, peace and compassion.
If you could give your heart permission to speak freely, what would you say?
Which one of the three is your heart longing to feel: God’s lovingkindness, peace, or compassion?
Photo courtesy of NataschaxHumanoid via Photobucket.