What childcare means when you're in your mid fourties

My daughter was nearby last week because her team had a volleyball tournament. She's a junior in college and her playing days are coming to an end. Naturally we wanted to see her, but it meant a two-and-a-half hour drive on a dark, rainy night. The freeway was packed with cars and on more than one occasion we narrowly avoided an accident. My wife and I were both tired, but we missed our baby, so we drove on.

We hurried just a bit more than usual because the assistant coach called in a panic; she's the mother of a beautiful two- year old boy and her usual baby sitter couldn't make it to the game. She asked if we would mind holding Noah. Not having sons, I was more than happy to babysit; its more fun to play with boys and then give them back than it is to actually raise them...so I'm told!

We got to the game late and picked up Noah from his dad (who's also a coach). After the initial tears, the little guy settled down in my wife's lap and we watched the rest of the match; Mom, dad and Noah. I pretended to be ok with my wife holding him, but secretly, I couldn't wait for my turn. He's a beautiful child with blue eyes and a moppy head of blond hair. When the match ended I took Noah from my wife expecting him to fuss, but he just laid his head on my shoulder and went to sleep. We made our way to the floor to find mom and dad. While we waited, I sat in the bleachers and began to play with Noah who woke up during the postgame commotion.

He began to giggle and the sound of his laughter had the strangest effect on me. I was exhausted from the drive and dreading the return trip (it was still raining; November in Oregon!) but hearing the innocent laugh of a child stirred my soul. As I drove home, I kept thinking about Noah's smile and the sound of his voice. It occurs to me that while there is so much to worry about these days, so much to fear, so much to fret over; the pure simplicity of a little boy's boundless joy and wonder might be a sign that all is not lost. Noah reminded me of why the little ones meant so much to Jesus. Their capacity to freely give and receive love made them the perfect vessels for communicating His message.

My daughter's team lost the match and she hardly got to play, but in a weird, wonderful way Noah made the trip worthwhile.

Go Cougs!