Safe on God's hip.

I wonder if parenthood is going to be one long object lesson.

Yesterday when Dave went to play tennis, I took Haven for a walk. I recently scored a back-saving invention called a hip hammock; a carrier that holds Haven on my hip instead of my front or back. So, I strapped him on, stuffed my pocket with change and trotted toward Rita's (see the entry Three Great Things if you aren't familiar with Rita's).

This was the first time I took Haven for a walk in the hip hammock, usually he rides in his travel system - a world unto it's own. In the stroller all he can see is me and he usually stares at my face until the lull of the stroller puts him to sleep. In the hip hammock, he was privy to all of the action in the neighborhood. He watched intently as we passed a man grilling chicken, as squirrels ran into the bushes and as two guys installed an amp into their suped-up car.

When we got to Main Street, traffic became a little faster. A car passed us and Haven held himself closer to me, then, as the car disappeared, he released himself. Again and again he did this, as each car drove by. Again and again I told him, "It's okay, buddy, you're safe."

There was no threat that he would be hurt. There was not a chance that I would put us in the way of the traffic. He was safe, hanging on my hip, wrapped tightly in a carrier with my arm around his bottom. I could see the threat was benign, but he could not. He had never seen cars go so fast, so close to him. To Haven, the threat felt imminent.

I live my life afraid that I am facing the traffic alone, when, really, I am riding in a hip hammock the whole time. I want to crawl back into the stroller, the safe bubble where all I can see is God's face and there is nothing to distract or scare me. But God brings me out to a place where I can see the world, where I can learn. He brings me to places where I must rely on him. Though I am safe, I still jump. I hold tight for a moment, and then I let go only to grab on in fear again.

In time, Haven will become accustomed to traffic and noises and surprises. He will stop startling at these things and ride confident that he is safe. He will sit there on my hip as peacefully as he does in the stroller.

I want to progress as well. I want my confidence in God's goodness and protection to grow and mature. I want to go through my life knowing that though I can see so many scarey things around me, I am so close to God that I am safe.