Deliver us from evil

"Deliver us from evil." I pray a variation of this section of the Lord's Prayer everyday for each of my children. I believe God answers it everyday, and we may never know what might have been. Sometimes, however, we can get caught up in the imaginings of the land of "What if" until we torment ourselves.

We recently went to Mountain View, AR with Chris' family to enjoy a cabin in the mountains. Chris had an extra day off work, so our immediate family went up early. We found a one-room guest house in which the seven of us crammed. The babies were in separate playpens set up between the wall and the queen bed. There was just enough room between the bed and the playpens to shimmy through. Saja and Kora slept on the bed in normal fashion, while David lay crosswise at the foot of the bed. They loved it. I, of course, sat in the corner for an hour at bedtime to berate anyone who moved or spoke.

Then I slipped into the bathroom/kitchen/living room (yes, those are slashes) to visit with Chris for an hour or so before we went to sleep on the sofa bed. I had forgotten how terrible sofa beds are for the back. I felt a bar in my body no matter how I turned! Sleeping lightly, I jumped out of bed the moment I heard a cry from the crammed kiddie room. David had fallen off the bed. I anticipated the fall and had placed pillows and blankets on the floor to soften the blow, but he fell away from the padding and hit the floor anyway. So much for anticipation. "The best laid plans..."

This little cabin was located directly across the street from a recreational area that included a playground and a public pool. We took the kids swimming the next day and opted not to pay for the babies. While they do love the water, it just hurts to pay full price for what really is a burden in the pool. Our older children love to swim and do so very well with floaties (although the warning printed in bright blue on the orange armbands very clearly states, "These are not lifesaving devices.") I have very few reservations when swimming with their floaties. However, water wings of any type were prohibited at this public pool in favor of lifejackets, which are, of course, "lifesaving devices." I took the girls into the ladies' changing room to get ready, and Chris took the boys. When we entered the pool area, Chris was sitting under a pavillion with the babies. I beamed at him and rushed over. We had mounds and mound of swimming stuff for the seven of us piled three feet high on the picnic table! Chris first words to me were, "Hey. Um, have you seen David?" As I turned to scan the area, an older woman began to run in a panic from the other side of the pool.

A man next to us saw her and said, "What's wrong?"

All she could answer was, "Baby! Baby! Baby!"

She flung herself onto the ground at the edge of the pool directly at our feet, fishing in the water with her hands. The lifeguard still had not noticed. Chris and I stood frozen in observance, knowing that the "baby" they were rescuing was ours. We couldn't see him because he was right up against the edge of the pool, having eagerly jumped in sans lifejacket, grasping at the ledge just out of his reach, kicking his little feet, eyes wide with effort, managing a breath with every tip-toe push out of the water. I'm pleased I didn't see him. The images might plague me for years.

Happily, the man and the woman, who were strangers to us and strangers to each other, rescued my son. He didn't pass out, gag, or even actually realize he was ever in trouble. I hugged the stranger. We then spoke to David in very terse terms about the importance of wearing a lifejacket or floaties before ever jumping into the water, as well as asking permission to do so. We have had this conversation with him many times. Once, under my close supervision, I even let him spend some time underwater to teach a lesson (which apparently didn't work).

People say you can't take your eyes off of them for a minute. Even if you only have one child, that's impossible. What a burden you, mom, or you, dad, are carrying around to think that your child's life depends upon your watchful eye bearing down on them at every moment, keeping them within arm's reach at all times. What a wearisome motto.

I praise God for the freedom he allows us parents through His sovereign will. The Bible says, "All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." Did you know that I am not perfect? Neither is Chris, but I won't expound. We cannot change the plans God has for David, no matter how watchful or worrisome we are. David cannot die because of our neglect outside of God's permission. Is that difficult to accept? Yes, it is. Is it hard to think that God allowed your innocent child to perish? Yes, it is. But hear this: you cannot live the rest of your life under an umbrella of shame and guilt if your mistake led to the demise of your child or one under your care. God ordains your days. Rest in that. Experience forgiveness, love, and grace from the Author of goodness.

David has been around for 28 months, and has given us more than one scare in the land of "What if?" (I try not to visit too frequently, or worry will overtake me and defeat my joy.) Kora broke her skull last year falling off a waterslide onto the concrete. And I WAS watching! I just couldn't reach her in the short second it took to mishandle the step and slip off onto her back six feet below on the hard concrete. That image still haunts me. But in God's grace, he spared her life and her physical well-being.

I don't know what God plans for my life and for the lives of my children. I have made it my job to enjoy them everyday and to teach them godliness. I pray they will learn to love God and to love others, and I do pray for their protection from mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual evil all their lives. "Deliver us from evil." I'm glad it's not my job.