When your eyes can’t see, listen…
My children and I went to my parent’s house the other day to visit. It was a nice day outside, so the kids went to the garage and grabbed their bicycles. They are getting older now, and with age comes adventure. I remember when I was their age, I wanted to do a variety of stunts and tricks on my bike. My friends and I would get together and set up ramps or even full racetrack courses in which we would include a variety of obstacles. Fortunately, my children haven’t started acting like the daredevils we used to try to be yet. I worry about them enough without strong concern of bodily injury. I do understand, though, that all children face dangers and many will be injured at times. For this reason, I use the old rule with them that, “If you can’t see my eyeballs, my eyeballs can’t see you.” For the most part this works well and they follow the rule, but like I said before, they are becoming adventurous. It’s easy to forget the rules when you’re having fun.
On that day, the boys went a little further than they normally do and they went outside my line of sight. I have to admit, I’m a little overprotective. They weren’t really that far, and the reason they were outside my view for a few moments is because they decided to trade bikes. I was concerned, though, because a car pulled onto the street they were riding on, and since I couldn’t see them, I figured the car couldn’t either. If they were only in a place where my eyes could see them, I wouldn’t have to worry. But I couldn’t see them, so I did. All I could do was listen. I was listening for the worst but hoping for the best. I may be exaggerating all of this a little. My children are old enough to know to watch for traffic. That doesn’t mean it still doesn’t worry me from time to time. I’m glad that I didn’t hear anything. I kept my eyes on the hill until they came back to me. It was good to focus my eyes on their faces again. They could see my eyeballs and my eyeballs were on them, so I knew they were safe.
Sometimes we step outside a place in life where we feel safe. All we can do when we get there is listen for the worst and hope for the best. I couldn’t see my children, but they couldn’t see me either. I’m sure that their adventurous nature kept them from worrying too much, but I know that, in time, they would soon begin to worry as well without seeing me. Don’t we all get uncomfortable outside our safety zone? I know I do. Sometimes I feel uncertain about the place I’m in and I feel I have no supervising eyes to glance back at to make sure I’m OK. Maybe I am OK. Maybe I’m not. Whatever the case, it is in those moments when we have to keep our ears open and hope we don’t hear a devastating sound. Hold on, even in your moment of fear. Soon you’ll see everything clearly again.