Out of reach . . .

It snowed here on Friday.  If you know me at all, you know that I hate snow – I hate cold weather – I would much rather live my life with 3 seasons and leave out the cold one.

But, Emma was stoked.  She couldn’t wait to get outside and play.  She would have gone out in her skivvies had I allowed her to.

On Saturday we discovered that the snow had about an inch of ice on top.  And Emma, with the body weight of about 30 lbs. could just walk on top without it cracking.

This should have given me a clue.

Living in Nashville (and being the kind of person that wants to ignore the fact that winter actually exists) we don’t own a sled.  So, I put Emma in a rubbermaid tub.

Uh.  Bad choice.

We live on a hill.  A big hill.  With multiple small hills that lead down to the big hill.

I put her in the tub, walked her halfway down a 5 foot hill and let go thinking she would stop at the bottom.  Not so.  She kept going.  And going.  And going.  She slid across our neighbor’s yard as though she was on a frozen lake.  And then she started sliding towards the big hill.

I ran and screamed and tried to catch her – but I couldn’t.  I fell.  I cried.  All I could imagine was my baby flying down that big hill into the side of a house.  In the matter of about 5 seconds I imagined every horrible scenario you could imagine.  It was horrifying.

She fell out of the tub right before going down the big hill.  She was fine.  But we are both scarred for life, I’m afraid. (Yet another reason we should live somewhere tropical)

Still, I can’t get over that feeling of being just out of reach.  Of watching my child slide towards the unknown – towards what could have been a lot of pain.  I like feeling like I have a sense of control – but I had no control.  I saw the look on her sweet face as she was sliding out of my reach and I was helpless.

And I thought of Aaron and Holly and how they must have that feeling daily – even hourly.  In fact, since that experience, they have been on my heart and mind in a brand new way.  (Join me and keep praying for Kate – prayforkate.com)

I’m so thankful that Emma is okay – though she may not ever try sledding again.  That’s fine, though. Because I have every intention to move to Bermuda.

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3 thoughts on “Out of reach . . .

  1. Wow! You have my heart pumping!!!! Glad you both survived one of many episodes that will have you feeling things are, indeed, out of reach and your control. It brought tears to my eyes as I “spiritualized” it and thought of loved ones who are ” sliding” down a dangerous “hill”…out of my reach and contol….but not out of reach of the God who created them. He has it under control. I need only to be patient.
    Thanks for the great heart stopping read! Next time….remember we have two sleds in the basement….
    Love you

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