Like Mother, Like Daughter
She ran away from me.
Away from the invisible barriers parents place around parks and malls and subway stations.
I knew that I would call after her but she would ignore me.
I could see it in her willful stride. She had already made her decision.
My heavy legs pounded the grass while her lithe body squeezed passed the children and the trees in her way.
She thought she was free.
She couldn't see anything ahead of her save the victory of losing me.
But I only saw road.
And cars on a busy street.
And her precious body too short to see from the dashboard.
As I ran after her, I prayed.
Oh God please let her stop before she reaches the street.
If she doesn't, please let the car see her coming.
Please let her make it to the other side.
If I catch her and she is unharmed, please speak through me.
My tears were blinding as she ran straight across the street and stopped on the other side.
Her smiling face greeted me.
This had been a game to her.
I sunk to my knees and held her hands.
I prayed for wisdom for this act of defiance that could have gotten her killed.
And I let her see me cry.
I told her how much I loved her.
I showed her the cars, who had stopped in time just moments ago, were now running down the street with determination.
I told her that when she disobeys Mama, she disobeys God and it breaks both of our hearts.
That because of her actions we had to leave our friends and our plans and go home.
And she said, "But I would have been right back."
Oh Lord, how many times have I run head first into on-coming traffic, blinded to the dangers that lay ahead? How many times has my heart hardened in disobedience, angry at the parameters you placed around me for my own safety? How many times have you watched me run straight into danger and you cried tears of anger and sorrow and relief when I came out at the other end? How do you deal with me when I don't realize the gravity of what I had just done? That, if not for you, I would have suffered. And died. How is your heart when I escape certain death by the grace of your hand, and then gloat that it was my own doing? How often have I told you that I was going to walk away for a while, but not to worry, I would be right back?
I need Your grace to be a better Mama today.