I spent Sunday following (read that as chasing) my two high-energy nephews through the relatively small Tucson Zoo. In case you think I was alone in this endeavor, fear not. No, my brother, who is their father, and their 20-year old sister were right there with me. It was really one of those days that you desperately want to tuck deep into an inner pocket of your soul to be pulled-out at some later crisis point and cherish. You have those days, too, yes? Blue skies, soft breeze, all the animals out, and my kids, the ones who are the closest I’ll ever come to my own, laughing and smiling with me.
You’ve heard me talk about, the Little Dude, Z. Funniest kid I know, hands down. It’s not that he means to be, but he just comes up with some of the best thought-mouth releases I’ve ever heard. Very little filter. Might not be so cute as he gets older, but for now, he cracks me up.
So, Z and I are standing by the Rhino enclosure where old Mr. Rhino has taken refuge from the 80° heat in his huge mud pond. Z reads the carefully lettered zoo sign, which explains why rhinos like mud: stay cool, stay away from harmful sunrays, keep away from bugs, camouflage, etc. Once finished perusing the sign, he turns his narrow little heart-shaped face to me and says in all earnestness, “Maybe we should find a mud puddle, too.” Z’s brain at work: it’s hot; the rhino got in the mud; the mud must be good.
I laughed, because he was so sweetly sincere about it, and because, Heaven knows, if I could cover him head to toe in mud to keep him safe from the onslaught that this world will provide, I soooo would’ve done it by now.
***Step aside for some imagery with me: picture yourself taking every single person you love and dunking them completely in a mud pit until they are unrecognizable in an effort to save them from every possible discomfort or danger. Hmmmh….
As Christians, we’re all about cleansing water to say nothing of fire – the purification, not putrification. But to Z’s little mind, this just wouldn’t make sense, and honestly, there are some days I get caught up by the imagery myself.
But, you know in reality, we do often find fabulous mud pools, (Ok, think outside the box with me. Doesn’t really have to be a pool of mud. Can be the job where you’re comfortable but know you need to move on, or the stay at home mom who’s kids are all in high school and her heart tells her that you that she was made for more.), and remain wallowing in our very own pond – our own safety zones – and rarely do we stray very far from it. Even if we’re no longer totally submerged, maybe we still have one foot or toe dangling in our favorite pond because, the safety of the mud calls to the essence of us, the part of us that requires stability and assurance. Leaving the comfort of that pond, leaves us vulnerable to the unknown: from the predators who may hurt us, to the less sizable or formidable beasts we may inadvertently squash.
Don’t get me wrong, there definitely is a time for wallowing (I’m a big fan of wallowing.). However, remaining in that cool pond of camouflage cannot be our long-term option, because while we are on this orbiting rock, safety will never be the viable perpetual option, nor was it intended to be. Being His is a risky venture in this world, but it’s a choice we all must make at some point.
None of this could I have said to Z, because he’s 7 and a boy who likes to play Minecraft and Skylanders, and figure things out on his own; Man, is he stubborn. (Hmmmm, could be familial trait.) And if I’d said any of this, I would have gotten that golden-eyed, you’re-so-silly-Auntie-Rachael look. So, to maintain my “fabulous Auntie” status, I leave it alone as I whisper a prayer that he can stay just a bit longer in his own proverbial mud pit of video games and toy soldiers. I’ll draw the line if he tries to dig a real mud pond. I promise. Or maybe I’ll help. Who knows? It could be fun.
The Unexpected Life 