Colorado’s monsoon season has arrived, and each evening we look forward to a short lived deluge of rain and the cool air it brings. Several nights ago I decided to sit in a lawn chair under the cover of my garage, open up the door and listen to the rain. I wasn't sitting long before my youngest daughter, Isabel joined me.
Izzy is the most like me of all my children- she helps God refine me. Gregarious and active, Izzy only stood for a few minutes before she noticed the small, quick moving streams of water running down the center of our cul-de-sac. “Can I go play in those puddles over there?” she asked. “I’m worried about the lightning.” I replied. Always the negotiator, Izzy asked if she could play in the driveway, out of the cover of the awning.
My gut reaction was to say no. I tried calculating the probability of her getting hit by lightning, checking out the nearby trees. I imagined her soaking wet and traipsing through the house afterward, getting water everywhere in a space I struggle desperately with to keep clutter free and sane-feeling- an ongoing war. I feared she would get chilled and catch a cold, it wasn't that warm anymore. I dreaded her siblings joining her, and multiplied the potential mess by four. I envisioned what our neighbors across the street would think of me as a parent- careless. I shuddered at the thought of the extra laundry, and her bare feet getting filthy on the pavement. In the flash of a second I thought of all these things.
Then I realized that there are a million reasons to say no to your child playing in a rainstorm, there always will be. But there’s really only one reason to say yes.
I said yes. And she danced. And she played. And I watched- smiling.
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