I just put my 3 1/2 year old son on a school bus for the second day. (The first day I followed in the car.) He is taking some speech therapy at the local public school and due to my illness he is eligible for the bus to pick him up and drop him off 2 hours later. He thinks he is Mr. Cool, standing out there in new shoes and a lunch box holding a cup of milk.
But he also seems so small… I love the fact that I am raising an independent, self-reliant, confident little boy that jumps on the bus and yells "bye, mom" with a big grin at the age of 3. And yet I don’t want him to be in any hurry to grow up. I dread the day at 18 he comes and tells me he’s leaving the state, or even the country–to find more adventures!
And part of me blames my illness for the fact that I have to make decisions like this (bus or no bus?) because of my illness. The truth is I am sick this week too and about to go crash for an hour of sleep –if I can –while he’s gone. With my shoulder’s flaring on a regular basis, it’s really more ideal then me driving him and sitting outside at a picnic table for the hour when I have a fever and am coughing. But it’s still hard to know what the best choice is at times.
In reading Streams in the Desert today (Oct. 12) it says, "When God allows us to go to prison because of our service to Him, it is nearly the most blessed place in the world that we could be because He goes with us. . . . If self-pity is allowed to set in we will never be used by God again until it is removed."
This body I have–that you likely have too– is a prison for us. But by allowing God to use it in little bitty ways (even like letting your child ride the bus!) we are allowing God to be beside us in this prison. And despite what the world may tell us is acceptable, there is NO self-pity allowed in our cells. Instead, we can sing praises and share our faith with the guards (doctors?) as well as the other prisoners (one another).