The Hardest Lesson

Sunday, August 24, 2014
I'll never get the image out of my mind. She was completed submerged in the pool. Struggling with all her little might but going nowhere. My brain would not process. My legs and arms would not move. I was paralyzed with fear. My friend Terri was closer to her and pulled her out and handed her to me. My sweet Wren. My brave, fearless 2 year old. She cried. I cried and shook. We held each other as if that might make it all go away. Her big sister was there, trying to touch her, fighting back tears.

Three weeks ago today friends of ours lost their 3 year old in a drowning accident at the river. At the funeral, I felt like it was Wren. I came home and squeezed them both tight, vowing to cherish every moment. We know that life is a gift and that we aren’t promised life on earth forever, but there are moments when that “knowledge” becomes visceral. Yesterday was one of those days.

I was watching my children. But what does that really mean? I know I’m not alone in becoming comfortable while watching them, relaxing into a false sense of security. Otherwise, how would we live? There were no other obvious distractions at the pool that day. I wasn’t on my phone. I had not left the pool. In fact, my friend and I were the only ones there. The kids were in plain sight. And yet I didn’t catch it. She walked from the baby pool, to the big pool, down the stairs, and into the water. All while I was watching. You know what Terri and I were talking about? Our next Sunday School lesson. Distractions aren’t just those things you “shouldn’t” be doing.

I’m pushing back the guilt. I’m choosing to focus on the precious gifts that are my children. They are what makes my life delightful and lively and interesting. Honestly, they are why I want the world to be a better place. Not for me, but for them. Don’t all parents feel this way? And yet, accidents happen. To the best of us.

Oh, God. Please protect the hearts of those parents who saw their worst nightmare realized. Please remind them that they are worthy of being entrusted with His most precious gifts. Let my experience be a nudge to others that we ALL find ourselves distracted and inattentive when raising children. Let us be ever vigilant in protecting them.

I think sometimes we act like brave 2 year olds at the pool who can’t swim. God is training us, and we feel ready. We can do this without Him. We know enough. We’ve had enough practice. So we get in over our heads. And we find ourselves drowning and surprised and terrified. WHY did this happen? We. Were. Not. Ready.

Yesterday was a lesson in obedience for me. And a lesson in trusting His timing. When I feel ready to conquer the world and ready to jump in and get things done, I pray that I will look to Him first. My brave fearless 2 year old is a lot like her mom. We’ve GOT this. And while I want my girls to feel powerful and unstoppable, I first and foremost want them to know that it is NOT because of their own strength or ability that they are such warriors. It is because they are creations of a loving God who equips them with that strength. They are nothing without him. And if they (I) can learn to be obedient to His timing and trust in His training techniques, then and only then will we be saved from drowning.


3 comments to The Hardest Lesson:

Unknown said...

You already know my thoughts, my feelings and what The Lord showed me through that yesterday!
But chick keep writing, you are so gifted with your thoughts and words! Love you and so thankful for you in my life!

Joedee Robinson said...

GRATITUDE, sister. It should be reflex to thank him in everything because each breath is him choosing us...now and now and now.

I had a similar experience with Henry earlier this summer. We absolutely cannot be all they need us to be. We can't protect them in all the ways they need protecting. So we lean harder on him, don't we? And that's just what he wants.

Brave of you to share. Thank you.

Thank you God for Wren's life and what you have in store for her for your glory.

Heather Miller Usry said...

And in sharing, you teach. In being vulnerable, you learn. Your words resonate with me. I told you yesterday, I also had a similar experience with Miller a couple summers ago. It's hard not to be hard on yourself, but try not to be. It is brave of you to accept this lesson and to share it with thoese of us who share your life. And I am so grateful I do.