Yesterday, Victor and I went on a nice walk. It was a beautiful day, but time got away from me. Victor started fussing, so I hustled back toward the van to take him home for a nap.
We were still a little way from the van when he pulled his hat off and dropped it. I shuffled around, put his sunglasses back on, and it wasn't until he was loaded back into his carseat that I realized the hat was missing.
He was hollering with gusto by that point, so I knew I was running out of time. I stopped briefly where I thought we had lost the hat, but I didn't see it and finally gave up and went home.
I was frustrated. With just a little stupid forgetfulness, I lost Victor's hat. Our little fair-skinned baby wouldn't fare well without his hat (we wear it at least twice a day for walks), but I knew I couldn't get back to the area to look around more for at least another day. It was gone.
While I drove, I prayed something spiritual like, Lord, I know that You CAN get the hat back for us, but I know You're not going to.
Such impressive faith.
I have been listening to a sermon series on prayer, and the theme that stuck out to me so far is that we talk to God as our Father.
I'm a mom now, and parent-child relationship with God means something like it never did before. When Victor wants something, I want to give it to him. It doesn't mean I'm going to give him my steak knife when he really, really wants it (even when he doesn't understand, I am looking out for his good). But as often as I can, I'll answer with a yes.
So I was convicted about my unbelief.
And this morning I found the hat smushed into the very bottom of the car seat.
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