It had been a normal Saturday with my husband and two year old son, John. We had plans to enjoy the morning at the lake. We parked our car and walked to the bridge where the geese and ducks were. The setting and serenity were perfect. My son stuck close to us as we showed him the beauty of God's creation. Bicyclers flew by us and other runners on the bridge. Out of nowhere, my son darts out in the middle of the path just as a bicycler is heading straight for him. He screams, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Get out of the way!" My heart stopped. My husband ran to John and brought him back to his side. On our way home, I burst into tears and told my husband my fears. Could I trust God to protect John in the future? I mean, shouldn’t I help God out and do what is responsible? My heart wrestled. What seemed most responsible is to not return to the lake. It is too dangerous! My insides were being seized by fear. And it was a scary place to be.
John is now 6 1/2 years old. He begins first grade in just a few weeks and will walk down new hallways of his brand new school in a new town. I have reflected on that experience at the lake a few times as I think about how we will soon release him into "all day" school. Kindergarten was just half a day in his old school. We are also reaching a milestone in that his formative years are now over.