We drove home from church and as soon as I parked, I unlocked the door and we began cleaning out the truck. Somehow the baby disappeared into the house, so it was just Rowan and Jory cleaning up their messes, while I went through the papers that had accumulated in the car over the past week or so. As I talked to my friend, Ashley, on the phone, I noticed my mom’s car, that hadn’t been driven since the accident in December, was moving forward and that Rowan was in the car.
Life turned into an action film during one of those slo-mo scenes. I remember running out of my car as the papers and phone fell out of my lap, my earpiece fell out of my ear on to the ground as I ran to my mom’s car and jumped in to stop it. I couldn’t even form a prayer, but God knew what I was praying for and asking.
I got in the car just as the fence stopped the car from rolling anymore. I quickly put the car in gear and thought if Rowan had crashed through this gate and hit the house we’ve been remodeling for the last thirteen months, I might have had to hurt her myself.
We got out the car and I locked all the doors behind me. Jory and Rowan stood on the steps and I gave them the look.
“Don’t you ever do anything like that again! We do not put cars in gear! We do not play in cars. Do you understand?” I questioned fiercely.
“Yes,” they both answered.
“Get inside the house, now,” I commanded.
And they quickly went in.
I shared the story with my friend, Paul, and he asked if I had punished Rowan. I thought about it and said, “No.” Then I thought about it some more. Usually if something happens, the kids will talk about it later or tell their Oma. But this time they had remained silent. They hadn’t even said anything to the baby. I realized I had put the fear of God into the two of them. And looking at the bright side, it’s nice to know that if I can’t use my arms to put the car in gear, Rowan could do it for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment