I can see his face in dim light spilling from cracked closet door. In this soft palette of night he could be my chubby faced toddler again–unruly waves of rust-colored hair spill over brow, freckles dance across terrain of nose and cheeks…
It’s been a rough day. I carry new burdens.
As I kneel beside his bed I am overwhelmed by the grief of this world and the wiles of Satan.
So I place my hand on his head and make this wish—this wish that he would remain untouched by the struggles that break our hearts and bring us to our knees.
“Oh, Teddy boy. I wish you never had to grow up. I wish you never had to worry about love, or work, or money…”
“Or chocolate milk.”
In the space that his words create I see mischievous smile creeping.
And I can’t help smiling back.
And in this moment I know that God is bigger than these things that weigh me down.
This child believes with a faith bigger than mine that these things can never touch him.
Because he believes this, I begin to believe it too.
I lay these burdens down. They are too heavy for me.
But there is One who has the whole world in His hands.
Besides, I have more pressing matters to consider.
Like chocolate milk.