Only 5 percent of me wants to drive my son to Lexington for a cyclocross race today. The other 95 percent wants to stay home to catch up on laundry and other household chores that need attention. The idea of driving six hours in one day seems like a waste of time. The 5 percent of me that wants to go knows that the one-on-one times with my children go by all too quickly, and I should take advantage of them.
When my second born jolts me awake at 6:45, as promised, I’m still dragging my feet, toying with excuses I can use to bow out of this trip. Reluctantly, I throw on a pair of jeans, brush my teeth, apply a layer of mascara and some deodorant, and scramble around looking for my flip flops. I reason that the t-shirt I wore to bed will suffice because that’s how I roll on days like these.
The sky is still dark. Who gets up this early on the weekend, I ask myself with a pouty face. As Eli settles into his seat to go back to sleep, I drive in silence. I pray. My mind wanders. I try to pray again. I ask God why he created me with ADD. My mind wanders some more.
Then I notice my surroundings. As a sleep-in kind of girl, I often miss the beauty of the dawn. But now I watch in awe as the sky turns all sorts of pinks and purples and the sun creates a golden rim around each cloud. The fog hugs the fields, shrouding the cattle and the crops in a thin milky layer of atmosphere. This is my prayer. No words, just praise and gratitude as I watch God unwrap this gift called morning.
I look over at my son who is now breathing deeply in his slumber. I wonder how often I’ve slept through the dawns of his life. Have I fully embraced the opportunities to see how God is unwrapping the gifts that are contained within him?
Sometimes. Other times I’m tired. Or selfish. Or busy with things that are far less important like laundry and household chores. And as I drive, I’m reminded that it goes so quickly. Within a few miles, the fog has disappeared and the sky has settled into it’s regular light blue hue. Just like my boys’ childhood, it all moves along so quickly as they change into adolescents, young men and then full grown adults.
But today… today I have this incredible opportunity to watch as Eli puts his perseverance, his devotion and his entire strength to the test.
As he is called up to the start line, the sun full in the sky, I see the determination in his face. The whistle blows. Lap after lap he pushes and pushes. It’s hot, and he is drenched with sweat. He breathes hard as he lifts his bike over the obstacles on the course. He develops a blister on his hand from gripping his handlebars while riding the hills and dips, and as he navigates the hairpin turns with precision. And I don’t miss a moment.
I don’t miss it because my boy jolted me awake this morning. Then God reminded me to stay awake lest I miss the beauty of his creation, both in nature and human endeavor, as I watch my son Eli cross the finish line in a cyclocross race in Lexington. Where I want to be – all 100 percent of me.