Our sweet little Kruz is literally terrified of the vacuum cleaner, of any loud noises actually. One morning he was playing on the floor while Brock was vacuuming the carpets for me. As the sweeper came closer to Kruz his little body tensed and trembled and his face contorted in fear and distress as a loud wail burst forth. I immediately scooped him up into my arms and he looked back at the sweeper as if to make sure it wasn't chasing after him. As I held him close, I whispered words of comfort to him. "Momma has you now. Momma won't let anything hurt you. Momma will keep you safe."
My words of love and comfort were swiftly swallowed up by the harsh reality that these promises of safety are not promises that I can make with confidence. Because I am human, because we live in a fallen world, I cannot guarantee that bad things can never and will never happen to this or any child of mine. It is a reality that terrifies me.
Another time last week, as we entertained a large group in our yard, panic came once more....... swiftly, unexpectedly. A younger couple had come with their three lovely children. When mother asked father where the middle child was, the answer was "I'm not sure, he's running around here somewhere." And just like that, the ice cold fear returned once again. Fear that comes from knowing what these young parents only know on a cerebral level.
In spite of the "shame on you" comments and emails that I occasionally receive from do-gooders who say things like "I have a three year old and I never take my eyes off of him," I know that sometimes we lose sight of our children. Children are quick, curious, adventuresome. Sometimes, even though, as parents we do everything in our power to protect our children, accidents happen. And sometimes our worst nightmare is realized. Sometimes........death comes.
At times the question "can I keep this child safe" feels like it will be my undoing. My finite mind knows that child death is something I could not endure again. And so I do the one and only thing that I know to do. The only thing that makes each day, with all of it's uncertainties, bearable. The only thing that brings peace for a future that I cannot see.......... I commit this child to my Lord, the one who created him. I remind myself that, while I am blessed to be called his mother, his greatest source of identity is through Jesus Christ. Kruz is a child of the most high God. Although it is unfathomable to my simple mind, Kruz is loved by his Father God in a way that I, in my humanness, will never be able to love him.
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation,
will be able to separate us from the love of God
in Christ Jesus our Lord.