I'm doing lots of walking down memory lane this month. If only that kind of walking burned calories. Alas, I don't think it works that way, especially when your eating chocolate chip cookies (for breakfast) while you're walking down memory lane.
Back to the point.
Hayden will turn sixteen in seventeen days. I am filled with emotion.
I'm excited for him; sixteen's a big one. He'll be licensed to drive. Turning sixteen is a sign that greater independence is at the threshold.
I'm also scared silly. He's won't be entirely experienced when he gets behind the wheel (alone) There are other drivers out there with too much on their minds; drivers in a hurry. Does driving signal that it's time for dating?
How did this happen so fast?
We got a scanner recently which prompted me to go through old pictures. I've been looking at pictures of Hayden with his chunky baby legs. I've held pictures and laughed at his common expression around the age of two; the one where his fists are balled and his teeth are clenched and he's saying "cheese" to the whole world. It's almost more than I can bear to think those days are gone.
My "memory trip " reminded me of one of the stories I used to tell about Hayden.
Before the girls, when it was just Jason, Hayden and I, our first pastorate was in Chilton. I remember one Sunday Hayden had been especially "expressive" in Children's Church ( and by Children's church, I mean the mini lesson that was given on the podium-for the world to see). Despite the harmful rays projected from my evil eyes, Hayden continued to talk, and wiggle, and.... flip.
He and I were walking home to the parsonage after church. I remember gripping his hand quite tightly in effort to show the seriousness of the situation. I sneered, "We need to have a talk when we get home!". Hayden's little feet scrambled to keep up as he said, "Can we pray first?".
I love that story. It's a story that warrants an eye- roll as I've told it a hundred times. But for some reason my current recollection has brought about new thoughts.
Hayden was a mess that Sunday, no doubt. But as I look back at my reaction, it's me who has the greater lesson to learn. I can't remember if we prayed first or not; I'm guessing we did not.
Should we have prayed first? Should I be doing more praying now instead of reducing myself to a tearful, anxious mess of a woman?
I'm certain I'm going to be doing some worrying and that there will be some misty-eyed moments in the weeks to come.
Evils of the world.
Oh what am I saying, ......in the years to come.
It's time to loosen my grip and
Even my tone
But I'd do best to take advice from a chubby cheeked boy and
Don't worry about anything; instead pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Philippians 4:6