I'm not so sure I'm ready...

In fact, I'm sure I'm NOT ready.

We had a great time at the park the other day.
Soon I spied our little adventurer climbing higher than I'd seen him go before.

Mommy instinct: DANGER DANGER

I stepped closer, but heeded Mr. Daddy's "hang back a bit, let him try".

I knew he was right, but boy did I not want to be on the comforting end of a bloody lip or a bonked head if the little guy lost his footing.

So I got the camera out and started snapping (Mr. Daddy was under strict orders to stay within arm's reach of the intrepid boy).

It was with equal parts terror and pride that I watched my not-so-itty-bitty-baby climb higher and higher.

Click.

"Wow, you're going high there big boy!"

Click.

"All by yourself!" (insert a tremble in my voice here)

Click.

"Almost to the top!"

And then it happened.


His foot slipped and in an instant there was nothing between him and the ground except a couple metal bars that were kind of in the way of his precious face.

Gasp. Click.

or Click. Gasp.

It was simultaneous.

Tristan had no idea of the major owie awaiting had Mr. Daddy's lightning reflexes not caught him.

His feet back on the rungs, he didn't even hesitate. He climbed to the top and went butt-first down the slide. While my heart slowly regained its rhythm.

*
Was I looking for a deeper meaning in this? Uh-huh.

I learned that my son has more faith in his earthly Father, than I often do in my Heavenly one.

How often I am afraid to even approach the climb because I'm afraid of falling, of failure, and of owies?

I watch as others slide down in glee and I envy them... forgetting that their climb may have been harder than mine.

I forget that my Heavenly Father stands ready to catch me, but He still calls me to climb, to trust, and to exercise my faith (isn't it dead otherwise?)

And the WhooHooOO YeeeaaAH at the end is so going to be worth it.