Swing set.

I wonder what that three year old mind is pondering while going back and forth...over and over and over? "More" and "higher", but other then those words he is quiet.

Maybe he is thinking about that slimy fish he caught this morning. Or riding the train. Or playing putt putt. Or the campfire. Maybe he's dreaming of the promised s'mores that await him tonight, or adventures only he can imagine.

"There's that old feather hat" he declared yesterday while playing Jake and the Neverland pirates. We listened for tick tock crock and found pixie dust.

Back and forth, back and forth...I'm confident he does not realize how blessed he is to have his parents and both sets of grandparents on this trip. I don't think he realizes how rare of a treasure this is. Is it possible that he can enjoy this campground simply because it is not routine? Or can he know that he is living better tent camping then so many other children in the world? Has he considered God today?

Back and forth, back and forth..."are you ready to stop?" I ask. "No" he says simply.
Over and over...

Then as I am equally deep in thought wondering what his mind could be contemplating for such a long time, he breaks the silence, "Mom do you want to play something different from I spy? Do you want to play what are you thinking about?"

Seriously? This boy..."Sure" I say.

So we played.. He described his thought and I had to guess.... First it was the turtles, then putt putt, then yogi bear.

We played for a long time. This three year old Micah and me. On the swing over and over. Grateful that today he shared those thoughts. Grateful for the time with him. Prayerful for both openess and time with him in the future. Blessed simply because it's him and it's me. And today, for just a while longer he is three and I got to view the world as he sees it.

Back and forth, over and over.

When Heroes Fall

It's a strange part of being an adult. The earth shattering moment when it is realized that people aren't who they appeared to be. Or worse, they were exactly who they appeared to be, and somehow, in a terrible moment of weakness, shattered their lives.

The moment when you realize superman is vulnerable to kryptonite. When Santa isn't real afterall. When good people die, while drunk drivers walk away. When spouses walk away. When doctors take drugs. When teachers hurt kids. When ministry leaders fail.

It's that moment. When the pedastool they were standing on hits you square in the stomach and you can't, for the life of you, catch your breath. There they are, laying face down in the floor, amoung a pile of shannigans they may or may not have created.

Half of you rationalizes this scene. "Surely not". "No way". There has to be a reason. They aren't capable of such acts. But, you look again, and sure enough, they are still on the floor. This half of you wants to help them back on their feet. Fully acknowledging the pedastool is gone, but you feel they at least deserve to stand up again.

Then the other half backs up. You realize you haven't caught your breath from the hit. This half drips with anger and accusations. Hind sight memories and wanderings of "how long?" and "Am I a fool"? This half wants to kick the stool back at them and make that pile higher. The audacity of it all makes the room dark.

Then, enters the Savior. Just his presence alone shines light in the dark. He too is focused on two beings, but unlike us, his attention is not divided. He can love us both just exactly where we are. The fallen need him. They need his mercy. They need the moment when they are face to face with the only one who could ever help them anyway.

And you, you need to remember there is only one Hero. Everyone else will fall, every time. No one else can be Him. Or guide you. Or love you. Or protect you. Just Him.

Suddenly in the light it becomes so much more clear. Two very broken people, who desperately need a Savior.

And in that moment, the face to face moment with Jesus, you take survey of your surroundings. Your character in each story changes, but indeed you have been hurt and you have done the hurting.

You grab your real Hero's hand, thanking Him that He never has, nor will He ever fall...and you look so forward to the day, when you won't ever fall again either.

Wrapped in His Grace.