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4/20/2000
I watched
God today. As we all rode the DART train for
my oldest son's sixth
birthday, we roared into the dark, loud underground tunnel—which scared
my normally-daring two-year-old son to death. Sitting in his
Daddy's (Todd's) lap, he looked at us and said, louder and louder, over
and over, with growing panic in his big blue eyes, "I want
out. Take me out! I want out NOW!!!" Todd
told him that we couldn't take him out—he would have to ride through
the dark, scary tunnel to get to the other side. But Todd told him
he would be right there with him, holding him every minute as they both
went through it together. So the poor kid decided that all he could
do was bury his head in Daddy's chest, hold on, and ride through with
his daddy. As soon as Todd said, "It's okay; we're out of
the dark," he immediately perked up and was ready for more
adventure.
If that's not a picture of God,
holding one of His babies close as He walks through the valley of the
shadow of death with him, I don't know what is.
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