Daniel has wanted a bike for a long time. A long time. I've always asked him to not get one, simply because they scare me to death. I've heard too many stories, blah, blah, blah.... When he went out for a ride on his Dad's bike during one visit back home, I cried nearly the whole time they were gone. I know, it's all rather pathetic. Daniel, being the loving husband he is, has respected my request.
But, it's been this sticky point in my heart. I know that Daniel's life is in God's hands. Me, being stubborn on the bike issue, doesn't ensure him more days in life, it only satisfies my need to feel in control. And isn't that just selfishness?
When we knew where the Air Force was moving us to, and that it was indeed a much warmer climate than anywhere we had previously lived, the bike conversation came up. It just made sense for him to buy and drive one.
So here we are. A bike, a happy big boy, and a happier little boy. Judah is delighted by it. And I mean that sincerely. His first words about the bike were: "It's for me?!" He periodically, throughout the day, goes over and rubs it. He adores Daddy's bike.
I still have a bit of fear to wrestle with. And I will. But, who am I to stand in the way of a dream?