Skating?

As I look outside and see the newly fallen snow, I find my mind returning to memories of skating gracefully and falling somewhat less than gracefully on "The Resevoir," in Massillon, Ohio.

Upon joining the U.S. Army after High School, I quickly learned a new definition for the word skating. There, it meant sliding by without really doing much.

Personally, I have never had much success with the first description of skating. The second . . . well . . . we'll let that slide.

For whatever reason, in a recent dream of mine, I was riding on a skateboard. I say riding, because I don't think you can call sitting down on a moving skateboard skating. It was a strange dream. I was following my children who were riding their bicycles down the street. There was a great deal of traffic, but that didn't seem to phase any one of us.

It seemed as if we were riding for some time when we came up to a traffic signal and one by one we all filed into the turn lane in order to make a left-hand turn. Strangely, as I looked at where we were turning, there was no road, only a sidewalk. My oldest daughter, Katie, who is 12 turned with ease and was quickly followed by my youngest, Jimmy who is 7. Emily, 10, was next to go and planned on following. Emily started out across the busy intersection, but half way around the turn, her bike wobbled and she fell. I could see the cars coming and they didn't seem to even notice her. From my skateboard, I yelled with all my might (which, as you probably know, is tough to do in a dream!) "Emily, get up, there are cars coming! Get out of the road, Emily!" The cars got closer and I yelled louder. By now I was waving my arms wildly.

In a flash, several cars whizzed by and when I finally ran into the road, it was too late. Emily was gone. I screamed even louder and could do nothing but cry in the middle of the road. "Emily, please, wake up."

As you can imagine, I woke up in a start and could not calm myself down. I went to Emily's room and was over come with relief when I saw her intertwined with our Golden Retriever, Chloe in her bottom-bunk.

Relieved, or not, I certainly couldn't get back to sleep for some time. I decided to spend some time with the Lord in prayer about what I had just been through. "Why did I have this dream? Why Emily? Why didn't they see her and stop? Did they see her? Why did I just sit there and yell? This is my daughter, am I really that unwilling to put my life between her and the oncoming traffic?"

It wasn't long before the Holy Spirit began to gently show me that I do this everyday. Everyday I sit by idly as the world runs down His children. Whether it be my skating through life or just plain ol' cowardice, it isn't enough for me to sit and yell to them of the danger they are in. I must be willing to lay my life on the line, as He did for me. I must be willing to go into the traffic. The time is short. They are not promised safe crossing. He has given me eyes to see the danger they face. May He give me the courage and the resolve to give them more than lip service.