This memory of my boys popped up from 10 years ago. One of the miracles my writing brings me is that ten years ago the writer captured a moment, and then ten years later the moment is capturing the writer.
It was sort of a cool brotherly love moment back then. One brother taking off like there's nothing to it. The other brother believing there's way more to it than could ever be overcome. My Elliott has always been able to sense emotions in people. He feels them. Maybe Elliott more than anyone has sensed and felt and understood my battles the last several years. It's his gift. All the way back to those playground days, he could sense his brother's fear. He felt it. And what he felt moved him to do something about it. And Ian. Ian is not immune to fear, for sure. But he IS immune to letting it stand in his way. Ian sees fear as a reasons to call out for a hand, not run from one. It's his gift. There they are, the two brothers: I need you and I see you. I love the image of Elliott standing back, my work is done here, watching his brother take off. A five and seven year old on a playground modeling the core ingredients of the very healthiest of relationships: I need you and I see you. I don't know why, really, that so often kids get that better than adults. I don't know why relationships get complicated beyond I need you and I see you. I mean, it's the way we come into the world as babies. A baby crying out I need you, someone showing up to remind them I see you. In the earliest seconds of our life we learn that the greatest answer to fear is each other. Maybe it is so because it's supposed to be the only answer. Where does it go astray? Is it a culture that over-promotes independence? Needing help is somehow a weakness? Is it a world so caught up and overwhelmed by our own dreams or our own struggles that we can no longer find the way to seeing another? Our common denominator is our fears. If untamed, they individually and collectively destroy us. They leave us frozen on the playground unable to even imagine that first rung on the monkey bars. At least until someone sees us. Sees that we need help. It is the most beautiful moment of all, no matter where it happens, when I need you and I see you join forces. We were created by a God who more than anything wants us to always hear, I see you. A God who wants to leave us always unafraid to cry out, I need you. Maybe two little boys on the playground are as beautiful and powerful as the reminder can ever be. Each other. Each other, there is no better answer. There was never supposed to be. It's the answer we were created for.
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Robert "Keith" CartwrightI am a friend of God, a dad, a runner who never wins, but is always searching for beauty in the race. Archives
May 2024
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