Well, it happened: Eli had his first (of what I am sure will be many, but pray will be few) busted lip. He's fallen or bumped a body part numerous times, but this was the very first incident that resulted in blood.
We were outside, about to get in the car, and he was toddling around the blacktop, having a blast. He's been walking for a little over a month, and absolutely loves being down, out of our arms, exploring. He's recently gotten really good at walking outside - even on uneven ground. Well, this time he was holding a cup in his hands, and his mouth, instead of hands, broke his fall. He started crying and I rushed over, deeply saddened to find blood on my sweet boy's mouth. As he reached his hands up, I scooped him up and hugged him tightly in my arms. I told him "Momma's here. It's all right"
Now, let me be clear - this was not a traumatic fall. Eli probably cried for less than 60 seconds. A little cuddle and wipe of the mouth later, he was fine - a scrape on his lip, but otherwise, no worse for the wear.
It was I, not Eli, who was most bothered by the fall. My first reaction (which now seems so silly) was "JP, he's bleeding, what do we do?". Haha. I'm not a rocket scientist, but I have worked with children for the past 9 years, and I've dealt with plenty a scrape and cut (and much worse - both a broken arm and broken leg). As a teacher and childcare program supervisor, I've been the one "in charge" and handled many situation with ease and grace. However, something about seeing my child hurt and bleeding struck a different chord in my mama heart. Then, once it was dealt with, I just wanted to hold him. I felt so badly that he had experienced pain and wanted to wipe it all away.
Of course, I can't. I can't (and won't) coddle him, and prevent him from running around and experiencing life and the world around him. I can't shield him from every single thing that could possibly cause pain (whether physical or emotional). He will get hurt at times.
And, as much as I can, I will do what I did on Saturday. I will pick him back up, try as best I can to make the pain go away, and let him know how much I love him.
And (because I'm a thinker), I contemplated how similar it is with God. How it must hurt him deeply to see us go running off, take a fall and get hurt. How He must hate to see us cry and bleed from a cut or scrape we face in life. And how, like a loving parent, He comes to us in our time of need, longing to see us reach our hands to him so that He can take us in his arms and let us know that it's going to be alright. That He's there.
No comments:
Post a Comment