More Than A Road Trip

Many of my hours have been spent at museums. Science, art, and children’s museums are going to take up a lot of space in our kids’ memories. As they’ve grown older, my role has transitioned away from the tour-guiding playmate to a snack dispenser that gets checked in with when hunger strikes.

I embrace the change, not because I like it or it comes naturally to me. Rather I know it’s going to happen anyway and I don’t like wasting energy on things I can’t control, like change.

One of the ways I spend these newly acquired blocks of time is to watch people. Really notice them. I pray over them as they catch my eye. I ask God to let me observe something honorable, lovely, or excellent about them. Something worthy of praise.

Occasionally, it’s difficult. Like when the guy inside the, “I’m going to hell in every religion” t-shirt just stared me down as if to ask with his cold dark gaze, “Are you offended?” No dude, not at all. Just curious about your life and the the life of your sweet kiddo bopping back and forth between the plastic police car and the mini grocery store.

~Lord, would you soften His heart and reveal the truth to him? Please let his son see his dad receive you and be changed. Let any generational chains be shattered in the name of Jesus and please allow rich soil to replace the dry cracked ground of his current soul. Thank you, Father. Amen.~

More often though, noticing something praiseworthy is easy. On this day it showed up in the form of a kindergarten-aged non-verbal child banging his head and hands on the table directly beside me. I didn’t stare this time. I didn’t have to. It was easy to understand what was going on in the mind of his beautiful mama.

She was there for her son. While he was yelling and hurling himself to the floor in an over-stimulated effort to communicate, she spoke calmly and kindly to him as if they were in the middle of a conversation. There was no embarrassment. No concern for others’ opinions. It was just her and him and she was there for all of it with her gentle hand ready to hold his whenever he wanted.

~Lord, may she know you and the fullness of joy that comes with knowing you. Father, please sustain her and encourage her. Please reward her for her patience. If you want me to talk to her, Father, please give me words. Amen.~

They got up to move on. I gave them some space and a few minutes before asking her if she was this precious boy’s mom (nosey, I know). She smiled and nodded. “He’s blessed to have such a good mama,” I said to her and walked away (not before noticing the tears welling up in her eyes).

I miss the days when my kids would grab my hands and take me from exhibit to exhibit begging joyfully for me to play with them. My new hobby helps me stay busy, though. It’s good exercise for my heart. And I can easily do it while I dole out all the snacks.