"Oh no! Oh no... Mama!"
When Moose found me in the back of the house his face was covered in worry. His bottom lip trembled as he struggled not to let the gathering tears fall. In his hand he clutched a piece of fuzzy brown cloth. He held it out to me, "Look!"
It was a moment I had almost expected, one of the few mothering moments I felt prepared for before it happened. As I took Big Dog's tail from Moose I assured him that Big Dog would be okay, that I could fix it. (Yes, Moose exhibits his father's literal streak when he names his stuffed animals.) It was a strange feeling, this certain capableness that rarely accompanies the journey of parenting.
Moose was so relieved and thanked me profusely when I restored Big Dog to him as good as new. I am under no illusions that I will always have a quick fix for many, dare I say most, of the troubles in the lives of my children. I savored this one.
It made me think of God and his infinite capableness and the way He always takes me in His arms when I come to Him with the different broken pieces in my life. "It's okay," He says, " I can fix it."
