Thursday, June 5, 2014

And I Loved What I Saw in There

Hyrum climbed out of the pool and returned to his place in line. His shoulders were shaking and his head was down.

It had been a rough morning at our house. Kids got up way too early. Chores hadn't gotten done. There were loud stomps and grouchy words, complaining about swim team. When I saw him slumped over in line, I knew he'd run into the wall again and now he was really mad at me for making him do "stupid swim team."

I walked over to him and called his name. He didn't hear me. I called a little louder.

"Hyrum? You ok? Did you run into the wall again?" He turned to look at me, and I saw more than a pool injury.

Have you ever looked into your child's eyes and seen straight into their soul? 
When our eyes connected, he began to openly sob. I took his hand and led him to a quiet place.

"Buddy, what's wrong?"

Almost faster than he could speak, the words tumbled from him. "I did something that was really, really bad and hurt your feelings and embarrassed you, and I am so sorry. I wish I didn't do it."

Rough mornings often lead to late mornings. We were so late that when we stopped to pick up Hyrum's friend, they had already left. For the rest of the five-minute drive to the pool, I had lectured Hyrum about how his actions at home had made us so late. I told him that I was embarrassed that the other family had driven, instead of waiting for us.

The words of my embarrassment and my disappointment had found Hyrum's tender heart and cut deeply--so deeply that he was unable to stop his tears as he swam.

I held my little boy's heart in my hands for that moment, and it almost broke my own.

Despite his soggy state, I snuggled that drippy little body up to mine, rubbed his wet head as it burrowed into my shoulder, and rocked with his sobs. My words could not assuage his guilt and remorse. I held him for a few moments, hoping he could understand that I had forgiven him.

I sent him back to the pool, but he was still crying tears of regret. Every time he completed a lap, he would hoist his browning body over the side, look for me, and the tears would begin again.

It was a strange feeling--watching my littlest son struggle while my heart was aching yet full of joy.

Later that day, Hyrum sneaked up behind me and shyly handed me this creation:
 A little monster from my little monster. 
I am so sorry I wasn't listening to you so we were late for swim team and sorry for making you embarrassed. love Hyrum and Micah

I snuggled that little brown body up to mine, rubbed his messy head as it burrowed into my shoulder, and rocked him back and forth. "This isn't from Micah, too, is it?" He shook his head and burrowed deeper.

My guy struggles to say he's sorry most of the time.

The time he was truly sorry--he taught me, too.

1 comment:

  1. this hits a tender spot for me tonight. been a rough week over here.