Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Will Corb run part 2...

Corban’s cousins, Hunter, eight years and Hayden, six years, head off down the long gravel driveway on their bikes, headed for the road. Corb takes off on foot, running as best he can, catches a toe, lands chest first. I walk over and call to him at which time he gives me that look that I know to be one of pain and basically a cry for HELP! Little arm outstretched, palm facing out shows me the gray dust from the gravel with a slight nick from a sharp rock or two. Lifting him up I ask if he wants to go down the road with the boys. He nods affirmative. Off we go, father and son, looking longingly to the boys riding on the road. We get to where they were, but they are now further along the road, turning around and heading back to us they pass, and so we turn only to walk back to them and this continues for several minutes. I feel Corb rest his head on the top of my head, arms draped to the sides.

How often do we long to be where someone else is, but we just cannot seem to get there without a lot of pain and frustration? Quite often, I’m thinking. We see friends advancing along at what would compare to our movement as light speed, and about the time we get to where they were, they are further down the road. Maybe with our jobs or finances or marriage or family or our worship we wish to be further down the road, with friends, not playing catch up. How great is it to have a father that calls out to us, lifts us up, dusts us off, carries us on his shoulders to get to where we need to be. It seems to be at that one moment, that point of realizing our helplessness that He comes, and is now able to give us what we need to get further on down the road. Funny how often I forget how I got there and start longing to be somewhere else. If I can just be patient, He will give me what is right for me. He will place me on the road in a safe spot where I can be happy, where I can see improvement. The road is still gravel it’s just not where I started out.

So I ask Corb if he’s having a good time on the road, up on my shoulders, and I feel his affirmative nod, hear a sigh. He’s all good knowing that even if he can’t be what he wants to be on his own terms, his Father will help him get there. Oh, to have his heart everyday and to be able to give my Father the affirmative nod when he asks if I’m happy.

October 2003

Brian Herrian <'((><

2 comments:

Runningmama said...

That made me cry. Are you coming to the writer's conference? You need to be there. You have cool stories.

Brian said...

OK, I always seem to miss the thing. Tag me on the arm when it is time if you don't mind.