Our four year old grandson, Jacob, was at our place spending the afternoon with his Nana. So I figured that Jake and I could walk down to get the mail. That way Nana would have a chance to get supper going and take a well-deserved moment for herself. (Jake can really wear a person out fast, and she had been with him over three hours by the time I got there to give her some relief!)
As I got to the apartment, Nan greeted me at the door. I didn't see Jake, though, so I asked Nan where he was. Nan playfully said, "I don't know! I can't find him! He was here, and now I don't know where he is! Can you help me find him?" Of course, these were all cues to let me know that Jake was hiding from me and it would be my job over the next several minutes to search our home from top to bottom before eventually finding him in one of his favorite hiding places, under the end table by the sofa. So that's what I did and before too long we were out the door and on our way to the mail boxes.
Now, you have to understand that Jake seldom walks anywhere. He almost always runs and this afternoon was no different. I, on the other hand, seldom run anywhere! Fortunately, my walk is only slightly slower than his run. I would let Jake run a little ahead, and then stomp my feet hard against the sidewalk, as if I was running hard to catch up to him. He would squeal and laugh and glance back to see how close I was to catching him. Then once I had caught him, the whole scenario would replay itself.
Jake is at an age where he is not a particularly good listener. It reminds me of something they used to teasingly say about my grandfather, "He's not hard of hearing. He's just hard of listening!" But with Jake, it sometimes concerns me, because he doesn't have a lot of experience with understanding first-hand what can happen when you don't listen.
I can tell him all day long to stay on the sidewalk, and not to go out into the street. And I can explain the dangers of being hit by a car, but he only sees the reasons why, in his mind, he needed to do it. "There was a kitten that needed me! I wanted to walk on the other sidewalk!" I try not to let him get too far ahead of me because of this very thing.
So, as we were "walking" down to the mailbox, Jake decided that he would duck between to parked cars to hide from me. But as he stepped off of the sidewalk he stumbled and took a small spill onto one knee on the pavement. It was nothing terribly serious, just a slight scrape. After inspecting the knee, a very few seconds of "fake crying," and another lecture from me on the dangers of going out into the road, he was back to running down the sidewalk, only to stumble and fall once again.
No scrapes this time, but he did grab his ankle and with a second even shorter "fake cry" he explained, "I hurt my . . . this thing!" I started to ask if he was going to be okay, but by that time he was already up and running again.
On up ahead Jake stopped to once again check his knee injury and after looking closely discovered, BLOOD! "I'm bleeding! I'm bleeding!" he exclaimed, followed by more "fake crying." By the time I reached him he had plopped himself down on the sidewalk. I looked carefully at his knee and was actually able to see a little blood coming up in the scrape. I assured him that I thought he would live to which he over-dramatically responded, "You . . . go on without me . . . just . . go on without me!"
Being the compassionate grandpa that I am, I laughed and said something like, "Come on, drama boy!" And with that he was up and running again. There was not another mention of it until we arrived back at the apartment, where for Nana's sake it became a two-bandaid crisis!
Of course, Jacob knew I would have never left him behind. And so it is with our Heavenly Father. We can be assured that he will never leave us no matter what or who we face.
"Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the LORD your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you."
--Deuteronomy 31:6 (NKJ)
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