Rest Stop

It was an ordinary day. 

Connor and I were driving back from Florence, where we had taken Laila for a weekend with Nina and Papa. Connor was grumpy because Laila was spending the weekend there without him.

“Connor, this is Laila’s weekend with Nina and Papa. Next weekend you will stay with them by yourself. Trust me; you’ll be happy about it next weekend when you’re the one going!”

Connor grumped. 

We were thirty miles from home when Connor announced that he had to use the bathroom.  Fortunately there was a rest area just a few miles ahead. We stopped.

After a quick stop, I was ready to get back in the car and finish the journey. But Connor had other plans. 

“I have an idea about how I can stretch my legs,” Connor said. He tagged me, ran a few steps away, and looked back and grinned.

How can I resist that smile? The same grin of my once-chubby two year old looked up at me with the face and body of a six year old. Where did the time go?

I ran after him. I chased him into a picnic shelter, where he declared that “everything wood is base.”

I waited for him to dart off again, into a large grassy area. 

“I’ve got you now,” I said, running after him.

“Mom, trees are also base. You know they’re wood, right?” he said, running up to a small tree.

I chased him around that grassy area, wondering why I hadn’t worn tennis shoes for the car ride to Florence. Who was I dressing up for anyway?

Connor collapsed into a giant pile of clover. 

“Mom, let’s see if we can find a four-leaf clover!”

We started searching, and immediately I was transported to my own childhood, and the countless hours I spent searching for the elusive lucky clover.

Connor rolled onto his back. “Let’s look for shapes in the clouds!”

I laid down next to him, and he put his head on my stomach.

The sky was clear and blue. It was a brisk 55 degree November day.

“I wish we lived here,” Connor said.

“At the rest stop?”

“Yes, I wish our house was right here. Look at all the clovers!”

Kids think the strangest things, I thought. I watched the world fly by on the interstate. We would join them soon enough.

I thought of our home—the large room upstairs with bins and bins of toys. The swing set and play house outside. The bicycles, tricycles, scooters, and sporting equipment. The friends that live next door. The t.v. and countless kids’ movies. The iPad with special apps for the kids. All that, and Connor was content to lie in a field of clover.

But I know what it really was. Connor was content because he had me. My undivided attention. I was his captive audience. Laila was not there vying for my attention. There was no computer to type on, no stove to cook at, no house to clean. Just me and my boy.

That’s all they really want from us—our time. It seems so simple, and yet days go by when I fail to just stop and be with my kids. It’s not that I don’t want to—I love being with them. But there are so many distractions, and sometimes I just forget.

And I think God is a bit like Connor. He just wants our time—that’s it. Sure, he likes it when we do great things for him, when we do great things for one another—His children. But what He really wants, what He craves, is our time. He longs for us to lie down in a field of clovers with Him and just be. 

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul."

                                         My Sweet Boy and his Puppy!