The past three Thursdays, our son Noah’s, 4th-grade class visited Bogus, our local ski resort, for a day of snowshoeing. Each trip they’d snowshoe around, studying animal tracks, snow depth, plant life, etc. Yesterday was their last week and they focused on survival and learned how to make snow caves, build campfires and other helpful techniques they’d need if ever lost on a snowy mountain.
Noah is our dreamer and deep-thinker. He creates great stories and movies on our computer. He reads his Action Bible nightly and asks me tough question about God throughout the day. His little mind is constantly working. This is wonderful, most of the time, but at times it makes for a stressful morning.
“Noah, get dressed!”
Five minutes later (after hearing numerous sounds and imaginary noises coming from his room).
“Noah, are you getting dressed? Breakfast is almost ready.”
“What?! I didn’t know I was supposed to. I hate being rushed!”
Oh my word. God, what are you trying to teach me here because I may go crazy before I learn it?
Yesterday was no exception. It was even worse as he “dreamed” about adventures of surviving on the mountain.
“Noah, the mountain will be cooler and wet. Make sure you have you jacket.”
“Okay. I’ll get it now.”
Yep, I’m sure you’re with me and can see where this is going.
We arrive at school and as he’s getting out of the car we see there is no jacket to be found. Internally my mind and heart battled.
Teach him a lesson. Don’t bail him out! Maybe he’ll learn to listen.
What?! You can’t do that. He’ll be on the mountain all day. He may actually NEED the survival skills if he’s wet and cold. Plus…what will the teachers and other mothers think, huh?!
Noah pleaded with me to go home and get his jacket.
Agh! I was frustrated. The night before I had prepared my gym bag in order to get in an early swim before work. If I drove home and back to the school, the lanes would fill up and it’d throw off my schedule.
Being the sometimes-dramatic mother that I am, “Well…I…give me a kiss (insert internal bad word here). I don’t know. Uh…go to school,” and then left without telling him what I was going to do.
I didn’t know what to do until I hit the intersection. Turning right would take me back home. Left, to the YMCA.
God…what should I do?
I went right.
Dang it! Why am I such a wimp? No fair. Why is my life controlled by everyone else in the family? I never get to do what I want to do.
Yep…full fledge grown-up hissy fit.
In the peak of it all, I turned a corner and to my right was an old church and it’s sign read…
“Love puts up with a lot.”
Dang it. God, I was kind of enjoying this.
I laughed. It’s true. I love my boy. A lot.
I returned to the school, with his jacket. A huge smile spread across his face, “Thank you mom. I love you.”
“I love you too buddy.”
Fifteen minutes later I walked down to the pool at the Y and wouldn’t you know, an empty lane waited for me.
Huh. Thank you God…I love you.
Has God ever redirected your mode or thinking through a bumper sticker or church sign?
Any good “morning stories” you’d like to share that help us all feel normal?