Reckless Trust

Warmer days are approaching quickly and with them come sun-drenched afternoons lounging at the pool, except that I don't do as much "lounging" these days as I used to. Most of my poolside time is spent monitoring. Gone are the days of diving for dimes or napping on my floating island. Now I get a workout just tracking down my kids. Come April I'll have one more to keep tabs on. As a friend and fellow-father of three often says, "When we had three my wife and I had to switch from man-to-man to zone defense."

It's a bit easier now with Eden knowing how to swim, but Avery on the other hand...she has no concept of what it means to drown, so that makes watching her all the more difficult. The girl's been holding her breath underwater naturally since she was a baby. Only problem is she still sinks like a stone. You may be asking yourself, "How does he know that his child can hold her breath 'naturally'"?

As long as she could walk, Avery's had reckless trust. What I mean is that Avery has no fear. Perhaps it's because she is oblivious, but I think it's more than that. Avery is a carefree type of kid. Parents who have more than one child will know what I mean when I say there is a huge difference between the cautious, worry-wart type kid and a "the-world-is-a-bull-and-I'm-going-to-grab-it-by-the-horns" type of kid. This type of kid is so much fun to be around because they bring a great deal of joy and laughter into your life. The only problem with the "horn-grabbers" is that they easily get impaled if you're not vigilant.

Thus is the case with Avery and the pool. She'll just walk right off the ledge, not skipping a beat, and simply expect daddy to somehow transport 15 feet in a blink of an eye to scoop her up and give her more of that much-needed, life-giving element called "air". I'd pull her up expecting a choking infant, but instead was met by a smile stretched from ear to ear. If she could have talked, she probably would have said, "Can we do that again?" Instead, she simply just kept on doing it over and over again, and it used to baffle my mind. Now I simply admire her reckless trust.

I have a beautifully-staged photo of Italian actors portraying a scene of Jesus laughing at a man who looks to be hoarding his food. The man's face is stained with worry and fear. Jesus is belly-laughing because the man doesn't get it. The man's lost his sense of reckless trust. Every time I see that photo hanging in my kitchen I'm reminded that I should be like Avery: recklessly trusting and joyfully abandoned to my Heavenly Father's invitation--trust in Me; trust in My Spirit.