Close the Distance

My little adventurer is on another adventure. Without me. Again. Because this is how she lives and this is how I love (her, anyway).

Yesterday her pace caught up to her in the form of dehydration at a Florida Disney park. Her number showed up on my phone as we ate dinner last night, and the unfamiliar voice on the other end came as quite a surprise. The chaperone informed me that they had tried less-invasive ways to help her body rehydrate but they weren’t effective enough on her pulse or respiration so they had called a squad. 

Two bags of saline en route to the hospital dramatically helped alleviate her dehydration symptoms. A few hours later she was released by ER staff. Her head hit the hotel pillow at 3am. She texted today feeling great, ready for day 2 of their Disney adventure that culminates with a 6pm parade march down Main Street, her cymbals clanging (if she’s well enough to march with the rest of the band).

I am deeply grateful for the chaperones who cared for her, sent me pics and updates, who stood in my place while I was over 800 miles away. I am grateful for the care she received en route to and at the hospital, for their diligence and expertise. I am grateful she is well enough today to hopefully participate in all the things, water bottle at the ready. I am grateful such good care is only a phone call and short distance away.

But not being there last night was a test of mama endurance. I hated not being by her side, not being able to see her at any moment, to reassure myself that she really is fine. I hated not being close to her.

In church this morning, remembering how long and terrible last night felt, God revealed to me that I don’t know the half of it. The way my heart ached (and how I still get teary thinking about how it felt) is NOTHING compared to how He feels when we wander from Him, when we are too far to hear Him or feel His loving arms around us. My earthly pain is nothing compared to His daily grief at our distance from Him.

If I seek Him out, He is there. Closer than a phone call, more satisfying than ice water on a hot day, always thrilled to hear from me, He throws a parade every time I reach out to Him. What am I waiting for?