Lessons from a Red Tricycle on a Slow Day

This morning was one of those mornings. I didn't get out of bed with the alarm and my whole day was behind before it even started. Instead of wallowing in my failure to arise early, I decided to just roll with the day--start off with a leisurely walk with my baby girl and see where we ended up.

Evie insisted she could ride her tricycle on our walk. Normally I would insist that she ride in the wagon, but with my newly adopted "just roll with it" attitude, I humored her and she drove that squeaky red trike with the lopsided wheels as I walked along behind.

I watched her maneuver her tricycle down and then up the slopes carved for driveways and intersections, her little legs unable to pedal up the hills but fully capable of walking up the slight incline.  She asked about the shooting star in the sky--a passing jet--and stopped short to exclaim at a tree completely shorn of all its limbs.  My heart swelled with love for this little girl every time she waved at a passing driver, not caring whether they waved back or not. She got distracted for a moment, talking about how much she loves pink flowers--even poky ones like roses--and that distraction led her over the sidewalk's curb.  I caught her before she fell to the ground but not before it scared her that she might get hurt.  I assured her that if she watched where she was going, she could easily keep the tricycle on the narrow sidewalk. Even though she initially resisted me, she kept her trike on the sidewalk instead of riding it in the street. 

We turned a corner and she began to complain that her bum-bum hurt.  It had been a long ride for someone so small, and I hopped on the back of her trike, looped my arms over her head to grasp the handlebars, and pushed her down the block for a short time--until she began to complain that she could do it herself.

And much to my surprise, she made back it to our street all by herself, thank you very much. We rounded the corner and she shouted, "LOOK!  WE'RE HOME!  THAT'S MY HOUSE!"  And with that, she pedaled the last few yards down the driveway, parked her tricycle behind her brothers' green machines, and headed into the house asking for a cookie.

As we made our way through the neighborhood, I saw a different parent/child relationship--mine with my Heavenly Father.  Every day He lets us drive, even though He could do it so much faster and better.  Every day He gives us beautiful sunshine and pink flowers if we will only slow down and take the time to see them.  Every day He points us down that straight narrow path, and even though we might want to ride in the street, life is better and safer if we listen to His voice. Every day He is bursting with pride at our accomplishments, no matter how small and insignificant they seem to us. Every day He is there to catch us if we start to fall, to extend a helping hand or to give us just a little push to keep us going.  Every day He listens to us complain that life is long and hard and sometimes it hurts.  And then, at the end of our journey, He will be there waiting for us to come back, and when we see Him, we will shout for joy just like Evie, "I'm home."  He might even have a cookie waiting for us in the house.

Thank You for a slow day and a beautiful blond girl on a squeaky red tricycle.