“You can just get another one, momma.”
Was his plea as I held my hand over my mouth lest I snap and say mean, scary things to my six year old as I stood staring over my favorite glass shattered to smithereens on the kitchen floor.
Yes, it’s just a glass..and no, that’s not the point.
And it’s not even that it was one of only two of my very, very FAVORITE vintage tumblers that I’ve had well over 18 years…
Nor is it that my six year old deliberately disobeyed me by drinking out of the vintage glass that he has been told specifically,
“Is off limits.”
None of that is really the pressing issue.
But instead, it’s this-
“Mom, just get another one.”
Labor Day we hooked up the wagon, saddled Tuck a horse and headed out to meet sister and her crew for a day unplugged, full of horses, mules, dirt roads and a picnic.
The kids rode well. The horses could’ve have worked any better and the family picnic was picturesque.
After a great afternoon together, we said our goodbyes to sister and family with still a half hour ride home.
Jake was growing wagon weary and asked if he could get out and run off some energy.
“Yes, but stay right behind the wagon or better yet, stay off to the side.”
Pointing to the grassy right a way off to my right.
Tuck was sitting tall in the saddle up ahead of us when I heard him holler, “CAR.”
We were on an old country rode that I’ve journeyed via car, wagon, bike or a foot more times that I could ever count.
It all happened so fast.
I heard Tuck holler, “CAR!”…. felt J nudge me to look towards Jake, who I thought was running in the grass, but was actually behind the wagon holding on to a rope he had apparently tied to the wagon post…but had just come untied- flinging him frantically into the side of the road of the rapidly approaching TRUCK!
When I SCREAMED AS LOUD AS MY LUNGS WOULD ALLOW,
Simultaneously throwing myself out of the wagon, in front of the oncoming truck that was now less than ten feet from our youngest son!!!
Without blinking I reached, grabbed with both arms and slung him into the wagon as the truck, that THANKFULLY had slowed– crept on down the road.
Trembling from head to toe, white-knuckling the side of the wagon I inhaled slowly lest I vomit or buckle and fall to the ground.
We burst into tears.
Jake and I embraced as I prayed weeping,
“Thank you Lord for keeping your hand upon him… for sparing Jake’s life Lord- we praise your name..”
J silently helped me back into the wagon as Tuck and his horse quietly turned us all toward home.
No other words were spoken all the way home other than those I whispered to myself;
I hope I don’t see that nightmare again in my dreams..
Once we pulled to a stop, safely in our driveway, I retrieved the still scared-out-of-his- mind-crying-little-one from the back of the wagon.
We embraced again.
Later, after we could all breath again, J and I apologized to our son.
We should never have allowed him to get out of the wagon.
That was an irresponsible decision, with too many variables.
Then, we spoke frankly about how his act of disobedience (not staying in the grass) could have cost him his life.
“There is only on you son. Only one you.”
Which brings me back to the broken glass.
Once I felt as though I could remove my hand and not scare my family with my words I reminded my children,
“No boys, there isn’t always another one. There is only one you. My prayer for you is to grow up and live out the plan and the purpose that God has for each of you…Lots of things and opportunities only come once. Do your best to be responsible and remember….
there isn’t always another one.”
As they scurried off I began sweeping the shattered glass.
I thought of the many, one-time opportunities and seasons I’ve missed with that same mentality,
I tell them next time I see them..
I’ll make it right soon ..
We aren’t guaranteed our next breath y’all…
Together, let’s be brave the next time God places someone heavy on our heart….
….because there isn’t always another one, right?