“Sing me a song,” three year-old Carson said from his car seat behind me.
We were on the way to the mall the day before Thanksgiving. Christmas shopping was the agenda, so songs of the season ran through my mind.
“Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer, had a very shiny nose. And if you ever saw it, you would even say it glows.” I surprised myself and sang mostly on key. No sound came from the back seat, so I continued singing the entire song. It occurred to me as I came to the phrase, “Then one foggy Christmas eve, Santa came to say, ‘Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?'” that Carson may not have heard the song since he was old enough to understand it. He was barely two last year. And he was definitely tuned in at that moment.
I finished the song, we drove into the mall parking space, got out of the car and Carson’s attention was grabbed by the chaotic holiday atmosphere. He didn’t mention my song again, and I didn’t think about it, either. Until two days later.
We spent Thanksgiving Day driving from Denver, where Carson lives, up to the mountains. We ate dinner at Ruby Tuesdays and checked into our hotel. It had a pool, so we took Carson swimming before putting him down for the night. The next morning, he woke us at 6:30, ready to play. He was excited about skiing, and so were we.
Keystone resort has a gondola that goes to the top of the mountain. As we waited in line, other skiers and snow-boarders were impressed with the idea that Carson planned to ski. Carson wasn’t aware of the attention he garnered. He just wanted to hold Poppy’s pole. When he almost poked a lady nearby, we realized why kids don’t ski with poles!
At the top of the mountain, Jeremy, our son, attached the straps to Carson’s harness, positioned Carson in front of him and between his skis, gave him a nudge, and off they went. It took some adjusting, but after Carson got the hang of standing up and Jeremy worked out the kinks of guidance, they glided down the slopes. It was hard work for Jeremy to go slow, but Carson thought they flew.
Jeremy said, “Carson, you’re Rudolph and I’m Santa. You’re pulling me!”
Carson giggled. He and I understood.
I thought to myself, “If only all our leaders could be so pure.” As soon as the thought completed, a new one formed.
“I am pure.”
I knew Who spoke the words. And I knew it was true. God is my leader. With Him out in front, I can just hang on and enjoy the ride. I don’t hold the reins like Jeremy or Santa, though. My Lord is the light leading the way and the navigator. He controls the speed and direction.
I giggled and understood. And wondered why I get so stressed about my life. On the mountain that day, I let go.
Do you have struggles and stressors that you need to let go of? Write a list. Then wad the paper and throw it away. As you do, pray, asking God to be your guide.