A couple of weeks ago, Benjamin had an end-of-the-season baseball party. As a final hurrah, the coach took the team outside to play some baseball. Our little Caleb was not far behind. He is usually two steps behind Benjamin wherever he goes. He wants to be just like his big brother.
Somewhere along the way, Caleb grabbed hold of a batting helmet. I don't know where he found it or why he decided to put it on, but I will always thank God for it. It may well have been the helmet that saved his life.
A few minutes into the game, Caleb (again, two steps behind Benjamin) was hit in the head with a baseball bat by his beloved big brother. It was an accident, but the motive or lack thereof did not decrease the severity of the hit. The blow was so hard that it caused the helmet to bruise the left side of Caleb's forehead just in front of his temple.
Caleb is a pretty tough cookie, but he cried long and hard. Knowing that head injuries are not to be trifled with, I immediately called the pediatrician to see if I should take him to the hospital. After asking me twenty minutes worth of questions, the nurse told me to keep a close eye on him. Believe me, I did.
I am no longer under the illusion that my life or the lives of my loved ones are invincible. To the contrary, I am well aware that life is incredibly fragile and that the thread between life and death can easily be cut in a moment's time. I try to embrace the gift of each day, each hour, each moment with those I love, knowing that tomorrow is no guarantee.
Caleb's head has healed, and he is fine. No permanent damage was done. But I refuse to walk away without pausing to say, "Thank you, God! Thank you for sparing my son's life. Thank you for giving him a helmet to protect his head." I do not take for granted this gift from God. I do not take for granted the blessing of a stubborn toddler who insisted on wearing a helmet for reasons that I will never know.
It is human nature to point the finger at God when things fall apart but to fail to thank Him when things go well. So many times, I am guilty of this mentality. "Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" (Job 2:10). Why is it that when a single plane crashes, people ask, "Where was God?" But when thousands upon thousands of planes fly the airways safely each day, hardly anyone says, "Thank you God!"?
I am reminded of the time when Jesus healed ten lepers, and only one came back to thank him. Then Jesus answered,"Were not ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God?" (Luke 17).
Today, I want to be the one.
