I had the opportunity to be a guest blogger on a friend's blog yesterday. By the way, that was super cool of you, Rebecca, to ask me. I am very humbled that you would let me have some of your coveted blog space! If you didn't catch it, head to http://tabforthesoul.blogspot.com/ and take a gander. Essentially, its the story of my first experience on Thunder Mountain Railroad and how it relates to the Christian life. What I didn't include in the post was the story of the first time I took our oldest son, Samuel, on Thunder Mountain Railroad two summers ago....
Samuel is seven and as of two years ago, was tall enough to ride the roller coasters at Magic Kingdom in Disneyworld. This made Aaron and I very happy. We love roller coasters and, having done our time in Fantasyland, we were ready to introduce our oldest to Space Mountain and Thunder Mountain Railroad. He rode Space Mountain with Aaron and bravely declared it was fun, and then graciously declined a repeat ride. It was dark, he said, and he couldn't see where he was going. I really wanted him to try Thunder Mountain, so after lunch, I used all my motherly persuasion to get him in line with me. It will be fun! Its outside. You can see where you're going and there's no surprises. There are dinosaur bones.... He reluctantly agreed. We made it through the line, chatting about the day at the park and where we would go next, all the while Samuel kept a nervous eye on our progress. As we approached the front of the line, I realized we were headed for the front car. My sweet boy was still a coaster novice and didn't know what that meant. I didn't explain. We sat down and the lap bar lowered. I'm considerably bigger than my skinny little boy, so it wasn't even close to touching his lap. Samuel squeezed in close, my arm tight around his shoulder. The train moved forward and then...it started....the rain. Florida has odd weather. Hot one day, cold the next. Bright and sunny one minute, downpour immediately following. It didn't just sprinkle either, it RAINED. Pelting, driving, summer rain. By the time we flew down the first hill I could barely keep my eyes open. The seat was so wet, that with each turn Samuel and I slid from side to side across the vinyl. I laughed and laughed hard, but Samuel, ummm...not so much. Above the screams from the other passengers and the roar of the coaster, I could here my first born yelling "YOU SAID THIS WOULD BE FUN!! YOU SAID IT WASN'T SCARY!! YOU LIED!!" This made me laugh harder. I don't know why; it just did. The absurdity of the situation was overwhelming and, knowing I couldn't do anything about it, it just made me laugh. My poor son. We got off the ride, and as it often does in the Sunshine State, the clouds parted and the sun came out, ending the momentary cloudburst. He didn't ride it again with me that day, but he did a few months later at Christmastime. That ride was rain free and finally enjoyable.
I'm sure there's a parable in there somewhere. Something about how in the midst of a storm, God's still holding us tight and that, in the end, the rain is just a momentary burst, quickly dissipated by the light of the Son (clever, huh?). Or, how we can yell and yell at God and He can take it because He's God and can see the big picture (I'd like to think He doesn't laugh at me, though. At least not regularly.). Or, maybe its just a story relating the fact that I'm a terrible parent for conning my almost 6 year old onto an amusement theme park ride I knew there was a high chance he would scream through, just on the slim chance he might enjoy it. Anyway you choose to see it, its the rest of my story (and I'm sticking to it).
