Listen

Growing up in North Carolina has many perks, one of which is the weather. For instance, less than two weeks ago we were playing in five inches of powdery snow, four days later the thermostat reached 78 degrees. It was on that particular day that I picked my girls up from school with one thing on my mind…

If winter was going to serve us up a preview of spring, we were going to savor every moment.

I rushed the girls out the door shortly after our afternoon snack, Lucy chose to push her new baby stroller, Abby climbed on her hot pink balance bike, and the dog practically put on his own leash.

“Come on Abs! Let’s go a little bit faster!” These were the words I spoke just before I heard it – the crash of the bicycle, her piercing cry, my name being repeated over and over again… “MOMMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY!!!”

The next few moments were scary, I’m thankful for a kind neighbor whom I had never met before, and two sweet boys who stood over Abby with genuine concern and faces marked with worry for my little girl.

Her crash could have been so much worse, fortunately all that came of it were a few muddy places on her clothes, a big knot on her forehead and a dent in her helmet.

I picked my sweet girl up and carried her the rest of the way home, our dog following dutifully behind, as if he understood the situation completely.

As we approached the house, my always expressive child said, “Mommy, you shouldn’t have told me to go faster, it was too fast for me!”

My heart sank to my stomach, the mommy guilt hit me hard, and there was no way around it. Right there in the driveway I apologized profusely for my mistake, and in predictable Abigail fashion she sweetly said, “It’s ok Mommy, I forgive you.”

What struck me about this whole situation is that Abby is not a fearful child, and she is actually very confident and skilled on that little balance bike. But there was something about that moment that struck fear into her sweet heart, and she knew that it was unsafe. She wanted to listen to that little voice that was whispering, “go slow, be careful here child…” but another voice,  one that was actually audible, was telling her otherwise.

Which voice do I most often obey? Do I give the Holy Spirit the same attention that my pastor, close friend and husband receive? If I did, would I avoid the crash and the pain that so often comes with it?

Thank you Father for blessing me with a little girl who trusts, and who is teaching me to do the same.

Amen.

 

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Wife, Mom to two young girls, Counselor, Cook, Runner, and Follower of Jesus

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