In a Mirror Dimly

I should just make it a regular category on my to-do list: pick up Nerf darts. I find them everywhere. There’s one sitting in the media cabinet that has been there since Christmas. If you saw it there, several things might come to mind: maybe you would wonder what that weird orange thing is or maybe you would judge my housekeeping standards.

For me, that stray dart says “Caleb.” My warrior son. This warrior instinct is hardwired right into the deepest places of his heart and it comes out in all sorts of ways. The books he reads, the games he plays, the stories he writes, the way he approaches sports.

Case in point: He and the fellas have been playing football at recess – so Caleb has been coming home and strategizing plays for the guys to look at. For him, it’s more than just tossing the ball around with his buddies. It’s a battle to be fought and won. Such things require good tactics and thoughtful preparation.

I love that about Caleb. It makes him a good thinker. He’s always evaluating and considering the things going on around him. It also makes him an initiator. He’s not a passive kid. He’ll jump right into a new situation without a lot of fear or apprehension. And, it makes him a bit raw about justice and honest character. It’s really hard for him to stomach injustice or cowardice or betrayal. Something stirs within him in the face of such things and, honestly, it can be rather inspiring to watch him wrestle with them.

As much as I love those things about Caleb, I’m also noticing that they make people uncomfortable. Much in our culture would snuff out or try to tame such character. Sometimes guys like Caleb are hard to control. They’re not always very quiet and their independent spirit can get them into trouble. And, while we applaud honesty most of the time, we really don’t want too much of it. It makes us, well, uncomfortable.

Just yesterday, he and I were alone in the car and he was silent in the back seat for a while. “Mom,” he said as he gazed out the window. “I just can’t believe we live in a country where it’s OK to kill babies before they have a chance to be born. I think that when I get older I really want to do something about that.” There it is – just the sort of thing that makes us, well, uncomfortable. We refined adults have our ways of explaining it away or making it sound less raw or wagging our fingers at such youthful, black-and-white views. But, in the end, my 10-year-old son is right. As a country, we’ve been bickering about it since the 1970s but the bottom line is, he’s right. In our country it’s OK to kill babies before they have a chance to born – at any point in the pregnancy for any reason that suits us. (I didn’t have the heart to tell him that his own daddy’s tax dollars might even be funding it soon.)

But, this post isn’t really about abortion. It’s about my son and something beautiful that I see in his life. Oh, it has it’s darker side at times – like when he looses his temper during dodgeball and comes completely unglued in PE class. Or when he acts rashly in a moment of revenge because his intensity gets the best of him. Yep, those are the down sides of being a warrior.

And, sometimes it’s easy to get consumed by those downsides. I really let them overwhelm me at times. Sometimes it’s all I can see. And, then I live with this nagging fear that I will squash him with all my corrections and reminders.

Hence, the Nerf dart and why it’s still in the media cabinet. I’m leaving it there – right where it is. Eventually, I might scoop it up and hide it in my memory box. Along with his writing journal that has stories that begin with “dark and stormy nights” and involve some sort of epic battle. And the comic book drawings of knights dueling. And the report card with his second-grade teacher’s comment that she fully expects him to change the world.

That Nerf dart reminds me to keep the big picture in mind. Sometimes warriors chew with their mouths open and have a penchant for questioning authority. I’m not saying that bad manners and disrespect are OK. But as a mom I can choose to focus on those or I can focus on the warrior.

May this be a year of choosing well.