Running and falling

My little boy loves to run! He wakes up running in his crib, jogging in place when I set him on the floor, a wide smile consuming his face. Run! Fast feet, fast feet! And he's off. Our home is circular in its layout, so he begins most of his days doing laps. Run! Peals of laughter, the thump of his feet ~ I have a growing appreciation for wearing shoes in the house because then I can tell where he is by the thudding on the hardwood. But as his speed has increased, so has the severity of the falls he experiences, and the sound of the fall is much greater too. Crash! By the sound I can tell if it involved him alone, or if there was a piece of furniture involved, if his head met the floor (Bone and flesh has a unique thump), and so on. But then it is my turn to run! To get to my little one in order to comfort, hold, rock, and maybe even cry a little myself. Sweet boy! So happy and then so devestated. Sunday he was in a particularly fine mood, dressed and ready for church, running, and then boom! Tripped over a little stool and led with his head, contusion over his right eye. And my heart broke... because this time I couldn't immediately run to him. My mom is here, and I heard her cry out and dash to pick him up and comfort him. I was changing Liberty's diaper, so I weighed her down with a heavy stuffed animal on her belly and went to my son. (By the time I got back to her she had kicked both of her little feet in the contents of her diaper and managed to somehow paint the bedroom wall with it...)

It was a thought that was with me all day ~ running and falling. When children trip and fall I've heard parents say, even to little toddlers like Izak, "that's what you get for being cocky!" Do you honestly think that cockiness had anything to do with it?!?! How about the fact that their legs are too short, feet are too small, and their head is a third of their body weight? Do you think that could have anything to do with it? What an ignorant, disrespectful thing to say. And when little people fall, how many parents saunter over, rolling their eyes. I think it is this posture that I have assumed that my Heavenly Father has taken with me all my life. I run and I fall, and He hears the thud... and as He slowly rises to come to me He rolls His eyes and huffs a little, totally inconvenienced by me. "If you hadn't been so cocky..." Today I had the first thought that perhaps God runs to my side to comfort me, speaks words of ease and tenderness as He gently lifts me up and brushes me off, whispering "I'm so sorry that happened. It's okay, it's okay." Can I believe in a God that is that kind, that loving? It is a far cry from what I have thought all of my life, though I know scripture speaks of a devoted father, one who loves even more magnificently than I love my son (possible?). When they speak of Heaven they say, "He will wipe every tear from the eye... there will be no more crying there...". Yet He desires to run to us now ~ here.

Had I never become a mom of a little boy who lovers to run I think my misconception would had gone unchallenged for the rest of my life.