This past Saturday, my husband, Alex, and I ran a 5K race with our oldest daughter, Eden. At one point during the run, we passed by a Waffle House. I was reminded of my one and only visit to that particular Waffle House some five years ago. I leaned over to Eden’s ear and began to tell her the story. Eden has a phenomenal memory, so I wondered if she’d remember this, although it was more traumatizing for Mommy than it was for anyone else.
It was a summer weekday, so Alex was at work. Eden was about two and a half years old, and her sister Elianna, an infant. My father was visiting us for Elianna’s baptism. A big fan of Waffle House-type restaurants, he chose that location to have lunch together. After we had eaten, we were walking out the glass doors, Eden in front, followed by me, the stroller and my father. Suddenly, Eden began to wander into the middle of the parking lot, despite calls I made to her to come hold my hand. I didn’t feel like she was quite out of reach so I kept calling to her to come back. When I realized she wasn’t turning back, I left the stroller carrying Elianna stuck in the doorway and bolted out into the parking lot to grab her. I became absolutely terrified when I realized Eden was now running full strength, not just in the parking lot, but straight for the highway at the end of it. Eden was not slowing down as my mind also raced with thoughts of what could happen if I didn’t catch her. She was so much faster than I expected her to be at that age. Just before she neared the edge of the road, I jumped for her and tackled her to the ground. At last, she was safe.
Bruised, yes, with scraped knees and undoubtedly crying. How could Eden have known what she was getting herself into? What I had saved her from? Thankfully, I was able to leave the stroller with my father and not worry for Elianna’s safety as well. But somehow I had to get the message through to Eden never to run away from me again. All I could do was hold her and cry a little myself with relief that nothing disastrous had happened. And then Eden got her spanking right there next to the car with a firm admonishing to never do that again.
No, Eden did not remember that incident, but Mommy surely did. It was the scariest moment I have yet had to face as a mother of now three. Of course, I rejoiced that no harm had come to her and have kept a close eye on all the kids in parking lots ever since. But even beyond that, I have come to understand one of Jesus’ parables from Luke 15:3-7 to an acute degree:
So He told them this parable: “What man among you, if he has a hundred sheep and loses one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one which is lost, [searching] until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he gets home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, because I have found my lost sheep!’ I tell you, in the same way there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance. (AMP)
I left Elianna in the safety of her grandfather to pursue Eden with all my might until she was back in my arms again. God also pursues the lost one with passion until he or she is found, and then He rejoices. And, from what I understand, when a shepherd would find a lost sheep, he would break its leg, which is why he would lay the sheep on his shoulders. The sheep was now completely dependent upon the shepherd to return home and to be healed. The shepherd may be rejoicing that the lost sheep was found but also provided a form of discipline to admonish the sheep not to get lost again:
For the time being no discipline brings joy, but seems sad and painful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness [right standing with God and a lifestyle and attitude that seeks conformity to God’s will and purpose]. (Hebrews 12:11 AMP)
I know that my Heavenly Father disciplines me when I sin so as to teach me what is right, just like my earthly father did. Discipline is never fun but worth it if it yields righteousness. While Eden might not remember that day at the Waffle House, she also never fights me to hold my hand in parking lots. So maybe somewhere deep down, she does remember.
The Art of Choosing True Life 