There's a special time in my home every night. Around 8:00 Kendra or I will put Colton to bed. This usually involves tackling and subduing the little rascal and taking him to his bedroom. After a diaper change, pj's, and pressing play on Jewel's lullaby album (I think I'm starting to get conditioned to falling asleep to it) it's time to spend a few minutes in prayer before Colton ends his day. No matter how high his motor has been revving a few minutes earlier, Colton will almost always settle down and put his face on my shoulder as we begin to talk to God together.
Colton doesn't sit still much. We play with his balls, and guns, and books, and he literally runs circles in the house, but being still isn't a skill he practices on his own. Sitting still with someone else is even rarer. So these few minutes where he is quiet, peaceful, and content to be with me are something Kendra and I fight over to see who gets to put him down.
Often times as I sit on the floor with him in my lap, I start to reflect and wonder how many times I'm going to get to do this again? It has been a more difficult month for me mentally and emotionally. Getting the news that a tumor has started growing was not what we were hoping for. You try not to expect anything when you go into a scan but it's pretty tough when the previous reports were so good. Then when you are told the cancer is growing again and we change drugs, there is so much uncertainty.
The uncertainty can swirl around in your mind and your heart like a thick fog that changes how you can see. Colton however is completely oblivious to the reality of our situation. So much so that as I sit there and long for this moment to never end, he will start squirming. I may literally have tears streaming down my face, trying to hold on to that last second of intimacy with him as long as I can, and he just wants to grab his bear and lay down.
He doesn't understand and can't see what's happening. I know that he enjoys these moments, but I don't think it compares to the depth of emotions that I feel for him at the same time. He doesn't understand that this may not be something that he gets to experience indefinitely. He takes it for granted that he'll have more time to play with me and sit with me.
I wondered last night how much I treat God like Colton treats me. What must He feel like when I turn ESPN on instead of spending time in prayer or reading His words? Why do I fight out of his grasp by listening to the radio on the way home instead of having a conversation with my Father? If I was given a choice for one final experience on this earth, I think I would choose intimacy with God. The stupid thing is, we can all have that experience at any time. Far too often we wriggle out of God's embrace for something temporary and fleeting.
God's waiting for us to come spend a moment with Him. Are we too busy? Let's not assume that we'll get to do it tomorrow or even tonight. Every moment spent in communion with God is a moment you won't have wasted.