The Bloodied Tongue

This afternoon as I was starting to pack some things for Hawaii, I rediscovered Garrett's sunglasses--the ones that make him look like a genetically mutated frog--and wondered if he'd leave them on yet. He thought they were a riot so we went outside to wait for Grandma (who was stopping by). As he toddled happily down the pathway he began veering to the right. I'm still not sure if this teetering was a result of the sunglasses or the amateur walker himself but, in any case, he caught his foot on the side of the flowerbed barrier and, began to tumble. Being that I was five feet away, I was powerless to stop it. His head crashed suddenly into another part of the barrier. Even before the tears. Even before I reached him. Even before I saw it, or had any real knowledge that it was there, I knew there would be blood. I just wasn't sure how much or exactly where it would come from. I snatched him up and, because of the open mouth and silent gasping, I easily saw the mouthful of red mixing with saliva. I could see the hole where his new top tooth went through, I just couldn't tell if it went all the way through. I ran in the house and tried to get him to suck on a wet wash cloth. When, quickly, I realized that this method would not work, I brought out a popsicle. He stopped crying and the frozen ice worked its magic on Garrett's poor bloody tongue. By the time my mom pulled up, my son's popsicle was gone, his bleeding had slowed and we were able to determine that it did not make a complete hole. However, his chin was slowly turning purplish red. He seemed fine though. He spent the afternoon reaching into his mouth and touching his tongue. It was really quite funny. I think he'll make a full recovery.

But it made me realize (once again) how much like toddlers we are in our relationship with God. So there we are, and God is right there and He says, "Hey, look at all the pretty yard I have made for you. If the grass does not suit you, I have even filled a birdbath with water and put old seashells in it and I don't mind if you sit and get wet and splash around and bang seashells together. And we can talk. And you can crawl in my lap. And it will be good." And then we say, "Actually God, I'm going to walk over here and play in this filthy dirty flowerbed that has ants in it and spider webs. It's much more interesting." And God sighs. We toddle over to the flowerbed. And we fall and we bite our tongues. And it hurts. And God scoops us up. Even before we get enough air to cry, he is already holding us. And he says, "Suck on this washcloth." And we won't even open our mouths. The Creator of the universe is saying, "I know how to help you!" But we just don't comprehend it. We act like we're thirteen months old. And God says, "I made you. I know what to do." So sometimes...after a lot of coaxing...we let him help.

Also, I was thinking about faith. Honest to goodness...if there had not been blood I would have kept looking, unable to believe that it wasn't there. Why? Because I saw him fall. I saw the situation...I believed in a result. That got me wondering about John 20:29 "...Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed." I had not seen the blood. But I knew it would be there. I knew because I saw the circumstances. How, then, can I look around me, at the stars, the flowers, the miracles, and not believe. I have seen the situation. I know it is a result of God.