Friday, February 22, 2013

Wild Angels

Yesterday I put a hypothetical foot in my mouth via Facebook. I always hate it when people tell half a story on that thing. You should either be comfortable sharing all of it or not tell us any of it, right?
Well, I became guilty of vaguebooking. I didn't say anything, really. But I did say just enough to worry a lot of people. And since I like to reserve Facebook strictly for use of posting big life announcements and sarcastic/witty nonsense, the place it seems most appropriate to share my story is this blog. Let's face it-- much to my husband's dismay, I am pretty much an open book on here. Even so, this will probably be the most difficult thing I share. But I have to write it out, or it just won't go away. The cheap therapy of blogging is a blessing and a curse that way, I guess.

Anyway, here it goes...

Yesterday we received about three inches of a rain/snow mixture. Roughly translated, that means it iced on us. When we were moving to Missouri, one of the selling points we used with our kids was that it would snow a lot here. We bought them snow pants and snow boots and got them all excited. It hasn't actually snowed a single inch since we moved here. All we get is crusty ice. Nevertheless, the kids have been promised fun times sledding in the backyard snow. And since almost all of the ground was covered in white, we figured we'd let them go for it.

I did a quick survey of the yards in front and back and decided I felt comfortable with them doing a teeny tiny slope in our front yard. The backyard hills were bigger, but I was afraid they would crash into our neighbors back fence and get hurt. This bunny hill in the front wouldn't be as exciting, but they would be safe...or so I thought...

After about thirty runs, (each only lasted about five seconds,) my two-year-old climbed onto his sled and started down the piddly hill. Normally he veered off right and leveled out between our neighbor's house and ours. This time, he must have hit a patch that kept him running straight. At first, we were laughing. What fun to be on a sled for seven seconds instead of five! But as I watched him barrel through the gap in our neighbor's hedges, it suddenly wasn't so funny anymore.

I screamed his name and started chasing after him. My husband, who had been shoveling the walkways while we played, was right behind me. Our dog was right behind him. About 40 yards from our house on the other side of the neighbor's is a draw with a dangerous drop-off. I can't tell you with confidence how far it goes down. I guess it never really mattered much until yesterday. What matters is that my son sledded over the neighbor's hedges, across their driveway, out into the street, and straight down that draw.

My husband and dog dove after him and I fell straight to my knees. One of the neighbors had run out at this point to help us. She kept asking if she needed to call 9-1-1. And then, I heard my little boy cry. It was the most beautiful that moment of relief you get after you give birth to your child and he cries. It lets you know he is alright.

After a quick assessment we learned that, no, we did not need to call 9-1-1. My little man had fallen 15 feet down the draw and walked away without a scratch. (His mother is, admittedly, not in as great of condition. But better me than him any day, right moms?)

Why do I share this horrific peek into my awful parenting tactics with you? It's to let you know that even in this crazy world, there are still miracles happening.

My two year old miraculously held onto a sled down a 15 ft drop. That stupid, plastic disc of death is what protected his little body from the rocks and trees down the draw. My little man miraculously avoided all of the pines and rocks as he fell into the draw and his sled was slowed to a stop by a small grouping of saplings just barely peeping out above the ice. My little boy literally fell off the side of a cliff and miraculously walked away without a scratch.

If you know me at all, hopefully you know I'm a believer. But I will admit, I have seen a lot of horrible things happen in this world and wondered "where are you, God?" Yesterday, when I lost sight of my son over the draw and I hit my knees, I know where God was. He was holding my baby boy.

So there you have it. That's what all the vagueness was about.
Psalm 46:1 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

Psalm 121:7-8 The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. 8 The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.

Now go kiss your babies.
As a happy after-note: Red (a.k.a. the Wonder Dog,) for his courageous acts of valor and selflessness, shall be rewarded a lot more indoor time, table food, and belly scratches. Good boy, Red.

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