Teachable Moments

I love those moments when the teacher becomes the student. Especially when I get to learn from my kids. Parenting really is a mutual learning experience. If you've not had the opportunity to learn from a child, I will gladly let you borrow mine.  If you pass an extensive background check, oh, and I'll  need a copy of your driving record and a blood sample, of course!

While researching this stupid lung thing I've got going on, I read a quote from a lady who's experience is much like mine.  At the end of her story she said "I find comfort in knowing that God chose me for this journey.  I will trust Him."  Those few words carried me until I got home and climbed into bed.  When my Raven got home she knew something was amiss.  So discerning that child is.  A bit winded, I explained what was happening but assured her it would be ok soon.  Because it's always ok, soon.  With much concern, she kissed my forehead.  She's so compassionate too.  Gosh!  I honestly don't know how they've turned out to be so wonderful.  As she was walking away I noticed her tears.  Fear.  I know it's a part of life but no child should ever live in fear. Ever.  And then it happened.  She reminded me..

I asked her to lay down beside me.  She looked intently into my eyes.  I could have lingered right there.  Rarely do we get those quiet moments.  I began to tell her that there is nothing wrong with being afraid, or sad, or angry or any other emotion that might surface when we go through hard times.  As a matter of fact, I'm a little scared too.  What matters most is what we do with those emotions and how we cope.  (Yea, I know it kinda sounds like I know a little something - I'm just winging it like everybody else!)

I began to tell her how I cope or how I like to think I do.  I told her that I pray. But if I were to be completely honest, I might ask for help but then carry the burden best I can until I almost kill myself with the weight of it.  I try to be my own savior.  In this moment I knew my words, my charm, would not be enough.  I was crumbling, she could tell.  There was only one thing to do.

Together me and my little girl crawled up on Big Daddy's lap.  We let Him hold us.  We let Him run His fingers through our hair.  We sat confidently.  We enjoyed a moment of peace.  We knew that no matter what we were feeling or going through, He was big enough.  He has to be big enough.

I didn't have to say much after that.  Her dry cheeks were answers enough.

Somehow along this journey I had forgotten how simple it is...  Lesson learned!