As Ben is 2 1/2 and the car seat almost 9 years old, you would be right in thinking I might have pitched this item long ago. But it was so. hard. to. do. Despite common sense glaring me in the face, in the back of my mind played the tape, "maybe it will come in useful someday." Wistful thinking.
Finally, I faced up to reality and decided to let it go. Into the discard pile it went at the bottom of the basement steps awaiting its date with the garbage truck.
As it waited, Ben wandered in and joyfully set about playing in it. It was a good way to keep him amused and out of my crazy sorting piles and Reese and I enjoyed telling him it was his seat when he was a baby.
Fast forward to yesterday - garbage day for us.
|Ben in his seat circa 2009|
Minutes later, he entered the kitchen, crying and uttering something undecipherable. I could make out a few of the words - seat, huh-dah (his word for truck) - but could make no sense of what he was trying to tell me. It wasn't until I left the kitchen and saw the car seat gone from the lawn that I finally understood.
I stooped down, looked in his eyes and asked him, "Did the garbage truck take your car seat away?"
"Yeeeeaaaah," he wailed, starting a fresh wave in tears.
I chuckled and hugged him and we repeated the tragedy of seeing the garbage truck taking away his seat several times over in his language.
And God spoke to my heart about this episode...
In Ben, I see myself. I see myself at a window watching God cart away something I no longer need, but something I enjoyed. It could be something He gave me for a time to delight in. It could be something I never needed in the first place. It could be an object, a season of life, a sin. At first, I may be upset with Him for taking it away because leaving can hurt. But as He stoops to look in my eyes and kiss away my tears, He reassures me of His purpose in removing it. He may not tell me why but He asks me to trust that His purposes are always good, always right, always exactly what I need.
linking with Chatting at the Sky and with: