Wednesday, August 14, 2002

It's late and everyone's asleep. (Even Georgie the puppy is snoring behind me as I write.) It's been a long, full day...a day with trumpet lessons and football practice and lots of work. A day with anxious moments at bedtime as my 9-year-old son Cameron tried to settle in for the night, knowing that in the morning he wakes up to a new school year, in a new school, with all new kids. I sometimes forget how big and impossible the world can look to a 9-year-old; how big a lump being the New Kid puts in your throat, how a few uncomfortable moments can feel like they will last the whole rest of your life. I needed some real practical faith tonight as I stretched out beside Cameron and cuddled him close. I prayed and reminded us both that God is with us every second, and that God sees all the good in us and will help us with the fear part if we let him. As I packed Cameron's bookbag later, knowing he had finally drifted off to sleep, I wished that I had told him that everyone is uncomfortable--we're all uncomfortable--but the discomfort most often dissolves quickly when someone smiles at us or says "Good morning," or simply casts a friendly look our way. Little things lift. But to a 9-year-old perhaps you can only say, "It will be all right, honey. Wait and see."

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