Facing Backward

My traveling buddy, his mom, his dad, and I left Bandon a few minutes after 11 this morning. We made a few stops, but by 6 pm, he was d.o.n.e. with his car seat. Watered-down prune juice didn’t help; various attempts to entertain with a multitude of toys were fruitless. He just wanted to be there- anywhere besides his seat! The destination didn’t matter. The straps that held him safely in the same position for much of the day were sheer limitation.

I told him we were close.

I stroked his head and gave him more juice.

Facing backward and, at seven months old having no concept of distance or time beside now, didn’t help.

As I sat close, wishing I could truly comfort him, I was struck by how similar my nephew and I might be. I, too, can’t always (often?) see where the path leads, and I have a (only slightly less) limited sense of time when compared to the Eternal One.

And maybe, just maybe, He wishes I would listen long enough to hear Him say, “It’s ok.”

Maybe I just did.

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