This morning, as I listened to the rain falling outside my bedroom window I could feel a lump forming in my chest. It had been raining all night--hard. Alex was scheduled to go on a field trip to a creek to study rocks and such. The permission slip said the trip would go on--rain or shine. It was a field trip right up Alex's alley--lots of investigating, exploring and getting dirty. But this morning I didn't want him to go.
My cell phone beeped to let me know I had a message: Flash Flood Advisory for your area. My heart raced.
I considered calling him in sick, though I'm pretty certain he never would have spoken to me again because of the disappointment and humiliation. At breakfast I snapped at the kids for no good reason other than I was in a state of panic. But they didn't know why, and even if I told them I'm not sure they'd understand. But I'm sure any parent would excuse my losing it over indecisiveness over breakfast if they had read
this blog.
It has haunted me ever since I read it. The author's son died in a flash flood just days after she
took these pictures. I read it and cried, thinking, "There but for the grace of God, go I...or any parent." I have those same pictures. I know that same type of inquisitive little boy who would be drawn to a creek not knowing how dangerous it could be. That's what was running through my head this morning.
I'm certain my kids thought I was the meanest/crabbiest mom in the world this morning. I'm also certain that they have no idea it was because of how much I love them.
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Apparently God heard the pleas of this worried mom, and the field trip was cancelled.
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