The other day while the girls were playing outside after supper, Joelle came inside looking like she wanted to tell me something. She looked a bit agitated, but since I was on the phone, she tried to wait. Somewhat impatiently.
Suddenly, however, she let out an ear-piercing scream. One sounding so terrifying that my heart skipped a beat -- or two. I quickly told the person on the phone that I would call them back and tried to ask my daughter what on earth was wrong.
She was shrieking in absolute terror and kicking her right leg -- clad in leotards -- frantically screaming "THERE'S SOMETHING CRAWLING UP MY LEG!! GET IT OUT...GET IT OUT...!!"
My initial panic-reaction settled down as I realized first of all, she wasn't in any actual harm or danger. It lessened even more as I immediately suspected that the cause for the creepy-crawly feeling within her tights wasn't any sort of bug, but rather quite probably the band-aid that she had applied on her heel the day before.
Even as I told her the likely reason behind what she was experiencing, she was still in complete panic, insisting that I rescue her from her terrible demise immediately.
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS!" she continued to shriek. "IT'S A BUG, I KNOW IT IS! GET IT OFF OF ME!! IT'S MOVING UP MY LEG!!"
The tears were flowing and the real panic in her eyes was almost painful to watch (even though I was sure my suspicions were right). I spoke calmly to her as I tried to settle her down enough to allow me to help her take off her runners and then her skirt (with shorts built in underneath, so it was necessary to remove that first, before the 'infested' tights).
When it was time to remove the tights, I could tell she was torn. As much as she wanted the tights off of her to rid herself of the fright she was going through, I could see she was also terrified to let the 'critter' on the loose!
As I gently -- yet quickly -- peeled off her tights, I was happy to reveal to her (and the almost equally terrified Malia who had climbed onto the dining room table) that the culprit was, indeed, a band-aid that was coming loose.
As much as I could sense her relief, Joelle was still quite shaken up over the whole ordeal and I immediately sat down on the dining room floor and pulled her into my arms, rubbing her back and whispering words of "It's okay, sweetie. You're alright" in her ear.
Do you sense a spiritual parallel coming?
I know I often make things out to be a much bigger deal than they actually are. I might have enough common sense to know that I am over-reacting...but that doesn't necessarily stop it from happening.
Just like I knew that it was only a band-aid, God knows when things are smaller than what we are making them out to be. And just like I tried to calm Joelle down with that very fact, God tries to reveal it to us too. Through scripture, in song, through other people. But are we listening?
Or do we continue believing the worst instead of being optimistic and hopeful? I know for me, unfortunately, it's usually the former. And why is that, I wonder? Why do we (or I) make mountains out of molehills when God is clearly trying to tell us (me) that it isn't so?
Human nature, I suppose. At least it's easy to write it off as such. But does that make it okay?
I am thankful for the last part of the parallel, though. That when Joelle discovered the truth behind the misconception, I held her close and comforted her for what the untruth had put her through. And man, am I ever thankful that God doesn't just laugh and shrug it off either, saying "See? I told you it was nothing. Should've just believed me. Silly child."
Rather, He takes the time to comfort us for what we just went through. Real 'trauma' or not, He cares how we feel -- even over small things -- and longs to whisper to us that "Everything's okay."