Dawn Alexander

This morning, my heart just broke. I watched as Tate was running from the van to school. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw his shoe come off and that in turn sent him to the ground. He was stunned and I think embarassed by the whole incident and so he tried to act like he wasn't hurt. I saw him grab his knee, knowing that he had hurt himself. I think he even lost the card that he was carrying to show a friend. What was worse was knowing that I couldn't stop where I was to check on him. I had to drive away. AND it looked like he was now officially tardy. My heart just broke on so many levels. Here was one of my children, hurt and ashamed, right in front of me and I could do nothing. You know, I tell them all to be careful. When I say that to them, I think that they think I mean only physically. What I really mean is in everything: physically, spiritually, emotionally. I know that they think that I am a bit (ok, maybe a lot) over protective, but it is that same feeling that I had this morning with Tate falling that leaves me wanting to always hold their hands. Even when they think they know where they are going and how they are going to get there. Will they find their way back? If they get lost, will they ask me to find them? Are they going to go to a bad part of town and get hurt? 'Cause I don't want them to. Is somebody going to break their heart or really hurt their feelings? Will they let me hold them and try to make it better? Will they even tell me? It kinda makes me wonder, is this how God feels? I don't know... All I know is that it is tough to be a parent of children whom I love enough to die for, are precious to all that they are around, and are as beautiful on the outside as they are on the inside. My prayer for each of you is that you will all remember this morning.