This evening, after putting together the girls' bunk beds and sending the children off to sleep, my husband and I sat down for a little quality time together. We had already enjoyed a full evening of labor and were ready to simply relax. We settled in for an hour of watching The Amazing Race on the computer when one of our little hearts walked sullenly down the stairs.
We could tell right away that Nathaniel was most unhappy. What we could not tell, however, was the cause of his sour disposition. His eyes were red, his face was downcast, and he looked like he was halfway between crying and knocking the tar out of someone. Naturally, we put our minds to the task of discovering the reason for his disgruntled outlook.
We were quickly able to dismiss the notion of a bad dream. Next came the denial that he was angry with his brother. After determining he was not hurt in body, we were able to decipher that his heart itself was hurt. He wasn't angry with us, though he was wanting to hit us because we wouldn't leave him alone. Of course, the fact that he came in the room with us and sat in front of us was the tale tell that he definitely did not want us to leave him alone; quite the opposite was true, as a matter of fact, for he wanted us to help him feel better.
After a few more minutes of questioning, we learned that he was mad at God. He was nervous and anxious, and has been frustrated quite a bit recently and felt that God had deserted him, that God had chosen not to help him. We reminded him of earlier in the day, when he had been so angry that he wanted to run away but didn't. God had helped him to control his frustration enough that he didn't just take off.
He angrily stormed off and walked toward the door. I could tell he was thinking about running out past the garage, so I gently asked him if he wanted his daddy to go for a walk with him. He didn't exactly smile, but his immediate answer was, "yes, I think that would be a good idea." So I asked Richard if he would want to go for a walk with our son. Now, this was at 10:00 at night, mind you.
Just before they stepped out of the house, I asked Nathaniel if he wanted me to come or if he just wanted his daddy. His answer was to hold his hand out to me. I smiled, took the offered hand, and closed the door behind us. We all walked out the garage, hand in hand and barefoot.
The next few minutes, we just all talked about the sky, the stars, and asteroids hitting the earth. Evidently, Nathaniel had stirred his imagination into worrying that a meteor would hit the earth and cause a big hole in the land. Then he pondered on the possibility of one hitting the water and causing a great big flood. We reminded him that while there was always the possibility, God had already promised that he would not destroy the entire earth by a flood again. That had already been done. We walked back to the house, discussing dinosaurs and stars. When we went inside, he said goodnight and walked upstairs to bed. his last comment was, "I wish I could sleep with you tonight."
What a heart tugger! He's here right now, laying to my left in an orange shirt, head on my pillow, with the face of a sleeping angel. I have missed so much the last few months with my children, that I am grateful for the moments shared with them. I think our time tonight will hold a special place in my heart. I will always cherish the time that we three just ran away together, hand in hand, in the dark of night....and found our way home again.
