A voice from one little body intrudes, "Mommy, can we go in the rush hour?" "Hmmm?" (I'm slightly distracted.) "I want to go over there, into the rush hour." Oh, he means, "traffic." Is he kidding? "Pleeeease, mommy?!" Apparently not.
"Why, honey?" (A stall tactic, though I am legitimately curious.) I'm trying to figure out how to navigate this request and still make it home in time for dinner.
He proceeds to describe what he loves about car rides: telling stories, singing songs, playing car games, a sense of community with other drivers on the road (and this is my introvert!), and being together as a family.
"Hmmm..." (Now I'm really listening.) We compromise and I merge into traffic an exit before my own. I try to wait patiently and experience it the way my child does. Maybe we should start singing.
Sometimes life is all about perspective. May we all find ways to embrace the journey, allowing ourselves to more fully love and live in the moment.
At that time Jesus said, "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children."