Not that as mothers we "own" our children. But we are stewards. And as such, that sixth sense you've heard mothers possess? Here's to that. And all the angels, round about, who bear us up.
We were on our way to play basketball at my in-law's last week, and my six year old had been at my sister's all afternoon. I called and asked her to send him across the street to Grandma's.
You have to understand that Aunt Nena lives on a cliff. To cross the street to Grandma's basketball court, you go down some steep rock steps, then cross the road that winds around the cliff; Grandma's driveway is directly across the road.
Some residents and visitors to our street like to treat this winding road like a race track–they speed up, I swear, and fly down the hill and around the corner. Never mind that there are people frequently backing out of the driveway there. And small children.
So I tell Nena–"Hey, send Winslow down to Grandma's for me. Wait. No, don't. He'll probably walk out in front of a car. Tell him to wait on the steps for me."
But deep down, that mother voice–that "sixth sense" tells me the kid is not going to wait. He's going to hit the bottom step, see Grandma's in all its trampoline/double slide/swingset glory, and race down the hill. So I hurry. I get everyone in the van, and we drive four houses down the road.
We see him coming down the steps. He almost pauses, but then he sees us. He starts running. From our vantage point we can see a white Suburban flying down the hill. At its velocity and his, they won't see each other until they meet. I'm gesturing madly at the oncoming driver. We're screaming at our son to stop.
He does. Just barely.
Huuuaaaaah. Big exhale.
The Suburban continues on, full speed, unaware. My son's eyes are the size of the basketballs in his brothers' hands.
"I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up."
"God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power," it says in Timothy, "and of love and of a sound mind." This is the power of motherhood. That God loves us and puts enough love in our hearts for our children that we can hear those quiet whisperings in the sound foundations of our minds and hearts, loud enough that we act on them. And when our actions are not enough; when we see 6000 pounds of metal hurtling towards the little tow head and he is hopelessly out of our reach, we know he is never out of God's reach.
Thank the God of heaven and mothers and little blue eyed boys; we are never alone.