Taking this little one to the beach for the first time was pretty magical.
She was terrified of the water. So worried that I would let go of her hand, that I wouldn’t scoop her up when the wave came. It wasn’t unlike our older kiddos at age three… except that they never questioned whether or not I would rescue them from the crashing water.
Honestly, I got a little irritated.
Just hold my hand! This is supposed to be fun! Why are you still screaming!?
“I’ve got you. I won’t let go. I’ve got you. It’s okay.”
We sat back down in the sand as she clung to me, eyes still wide and scanning for waves. It seems so unfair that she has learned in just three short years of life to never let her guard down, never trust, never know that she’s safe.
When it’s hard and exhausting and downright infuriating, I want to still teach her to trust. Trust in something bigger than her, than me, than all of us. Trust and hope for eternity, even when the waves are crashing.
Ryan always reminds me that we’ll give an account of time here. My account will be mostly filled with impatience and pride, selfishness and stubbornness. So I take a deep breath and take her hand again, wiping tears and snot and sand from her face. And pray for grace, as we walk back towards the waves.
mattiesmith.com 