I vividly remember standing in the long and painstakingly slow line at Walgreens nervously watching the clock and counting the people in front of me.
5, 6, 7.
Seven people in front of me!
Ok. This is possible. I can make it. I just need this worker to go quickly.
Beep. Pause. Beep. Pause. Beep. Pauuuuuuuuuuuuse.
Oh man. She’s moving at a snail’s pace. Please worker. Please. Put a little gusto in this. What are you even doing?
I start looking around. Where are the other workers? Can someone else come to the front?
Slowly. I start feeling a panic. I’m not going to make it.
I look at the clock again.
School gets out in 5 minutes. And my drive is more than 5 minutes away.
Oh. My. Goodness. There’s no way I can make it. Should I just leave the prescription on the counter?
Then my baby coughs. No. I’ve got to get this. He’s so sick.
Can’t you move any faster?! I think to myself. Mean thoughts about the worker start flooding my head.
“Retire if you don’t want to work! Some of us are busy.” Then I feel guilty for being so ugly in my mind.
I anxiously look all around and suddenly have the immature feeling to push the innocent woman in front of me.
Move, I’m going to be late!!
Yes. The girl whose worst nightmare growing up would be getting in a physical altercation with someone?
Yes. That same 31-year-old woman actually had to hold back the urge to push a line of people!
Luckily, I had my baby in my arms and the prescription for his infection. Or otherwise, who knows?
Oh, honey. It looks like you have your hands full. A preschooler and a baby?
Yes. And a Kindergartner that I’m late to pick up.
Oh, sweetie. Go in front of me.
Thank God. You’re an angel.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Hand cash. Run!!!!
I screech up to the school like a crazy person just in time to see Christian sitting on the curb.
My heart drops.
He is the last one.
My window is rolled down and I’m yelling out the window before the car is stopped.
“I am so sorry. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted him to be the last one.”
The teachers smile sweetly and warmly reply.
“Don’t worry. You’re not that late. Someone has to be the last.”
Then Christian crawls in the car with a smile on his face.
“Where were you?”
Tears fill my eyes.
I don’t know why. But for some reason. This scenario was one of my worst nightmares before and after becoming a mom. I never wanted a child of mine to be waiting to get picked up.
I’m sure for some moms reading this. You’re wondering, “What’s the big deal?”
But to me. It was a big deal. A huge deal. Because in my heart, it symbolized so much more than running late and getting caught in a long line.
Aside from irresponsibility and poor time management and judgment…all of which could be included on the list of what I hate about it…
Most importantly, it symbolized that Christian wasn’t important to me that day. Or I feared that is what he felt.
That by him waiting there on the curb and wondering where I was, that he was also wondering. “Why am I not important enough to get? Did she forget about me? Does she not love me?”
My dramatic list could go on and on.
Call me a princess in search of my knight in shining armor. But I love the idea of being sought after. I love the idea of being pursued and rescued from harm’s way.
It not only feels romantic. It also just feels like the way it should be.
That’s one reason Guy was always so perfect for me. That is exactly what he did through all the years. He always showed up at just the right time.
Like that scene in a movie when a girl is at a party and checking the door to see if her love interest has arrived and she’s disappointed to see he isn’t coming.
But she keeps checking anyway. Time and time again. And just when she thinks her time is up. And there’s no way he’s coming.
He walks through the door.
And her heart goes from fallen to full.
In one single second.
Sadness to security. Who doesn’t crave that?
The guarantee of pursuit represents love to me.
I want to know my love is coming for me.
And that’s what I feel like my role is to my children. To give them love and security through my constant pursuit of them.
My constant assurance that I will always show up.
I will always come for you.
Well, I have a question for you.
Have you ever been left?
And even more, do you feel that you’ve been left now?
Not necessarily by your parents because you’re a grown adult. But just by people in general?
Do you ever find that you feel like you’re waiting for something or someone to come?
But no matter how long you wait, no one ever pulls up.
You’re the kid sitting on the curb hoping the next car is yours but instead, it’s just one car after another that drives by but doesn’t stop.
If that’s you. If what I’m describing resonates with you. Then I just have to tell you this.
There IS someone coming for you.
There IS someone always in pursuit of you.
Your Dad IS on the way.
Maybe you feel you’ve been in the principal’s office one too many times and your Dad is angry at you.
I’ve got news for you.
His car is still coming.
Maybe you feel like you told him you don’t want a ride and that you were going to walk home with some other friends instead.
It doesn’t matter.
He is still coming just to check.
Maybe you told him that he embarrasses you. And to stay away.
He gets it.
But he will still make sure you find your way home.
If you feel all alone on the curb.
I promise you.
You are not.
Your Dad IS coming to pick you up.
He will leave none of his children left on that curb. Because he is your father.
And even if can’t see his car coming, he is still coming for you.
Oh, but I forgot. I never told you the end of our story. It didn’t end how I expected.
“Christian, I’m sooo sorry I was late.”
Tears running down my cheeks.
“But remember this. I will always come for you. Even if you have to wait.
I promise. I will always come.”
“Oh, I know, mommy.
You thought I was worried?
I was just talking with my teachers.
I knew you were coming.
Cause that’s what you do.
You always come.“
He will not leave you or forsake you.
Do not fear or be dismayed…Deuteronomy 31:8
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