Picture this: I am driving down a two-way highway on an overcast day when my baby, strapped in a backwards facing car seat, begins to cry. Anyone who has ever been a parent or caregiver knows the angst which a back seat crier can bring-especially one that is brought on by a fallen pacifier.
Feeling like a professional mom that day, I reached for the spare pacifier that I keep in the front of the car. It took only a few seconds to realize that my saving grace-that magic peacemaker (known simply as a pacifier to regular folk) was not in its usual space.
[Insert panic here.]
The cries became louder, my breathing became shorter, and suddenly, what started out as a wonderfully pre-planned trip across town began to morph into a spontaneous combustion of anxiety. Something had to give.
Never one to take my eyes off of the road, I used my peripheral vision to uncover the mystery of the missing pacifier. Sure enough, in the middle of the passenger's side foot space, there lay the peacemaker. My problem solving self awakened, and I began to calculate the "how" of moving forward on down the road while retrieving my baby's pacifier.
After a few more moments of my baby's weeping and gnashing of gums, I decided to make my move. Easing forward and never taking my eyes off of the road, I reached downward to make the quick, and seemingly easy scoop. As I wrapped my fingers around the rubbery silencer, I internally gave myself a high-five for accomplishing the task. My work, was done.
And then it happened.
Without warning, the car began to beep in a way that I had never heard. For a split second, my control of the car was lost. I swerved first left, then right-all the while feeling that the I was heading for an ending of disaster.
My hand had accidentally hit the gear shift-on a busy street nonetheless. Although my survival antennae kicked in, I braced for impact-attempting to simultaneously calculate how I could maneuver in a way that minimized danger for my precious cargo-even if that meant taking a full-on hit myself.
The baby continued to cry throughout the ordeal-not one time changing the timbre of the cry. It was as if nothing had changed-the baby's need was still the same. Whether we were driving on our chartered course, or frantically trying to regain control of a dreadful mistake, the need for that pacifier never wavered.
Sure that either the car was going to flip over, or we would crash head-first into the highway barrier, I grabbed the wheel with both hands, and accepted the fact that I regaining control of the car was going to take quick thinking and action.
I leaned in to every swerve, kept my eyes on the road around me, and prayed...
...and just like that-we were driving normally again. Glancing in my rear view mirror, I saw cars so far behind me that although they had just witnessed the sudden swerving, tilting, and jerking of my car, they were well out of harms way. I peered ahead only to see oncoming cars in the far distance. I screamed "THANK YOU, JESUS!!" because it truly was a miracle that other cars that I thought were beside me were actually behind me.....
THE BABY WAS STILL CRYING!
I had almost killed myself and precious cargo while attempting to move forward AND pacify what was behind me at the same time.
I found the nearest gas station, pulled in, opened that back seat car door, and held my baby as close to me as I could. Our eyes locked together, I checked to make sure that everything was alright on her little frame. We sat there together-no longer worried about getting anywhere on time.
And just like that, the crying stopped.
After I put the pacifier in my baby's mouth, I got back in the driver's seat, and continued peacefully onward to where we needed to go. While we didn't arrive at the start time of the event as I had planned, we arrived ALIVE-in plenty of time to enjoy the pleasantries that we had set out to enjoy.
Lest I get too up close and personal, I will only speak for myself on this one (wink). There is indeed a lesson here:
MY PAST-Which can also go by the name My Backseat Baby.
(Settle down now. Remember, I won't even bring you into this...It's about me...)
While some may argue that the past is something that you must release, I would assert that to be impossible. Being someone who has made some pretty massive and life altering mistakes, I'm pretty well versed in my justification. But to each his own. I can only share MY thoughts, experiences, and lessons:
There comes a certain point where we must mature enough to recognize that our past is unchangeable. In the words of Stevie Wonder, "signed, sealed, delivered, IT'S YOURS!" What makes it all worth it, however, is when we actually stop, open up that back door, look it over and work diligently to stop the 'crying'.
How does one do that? As always, I'm glad you asked:
Friends, make no mistake about it: The cries of your past are strong enough to hold you back from your future! Right now, you may be staring something in the face- an opportunity, a relationship...SOMETHING that is within your reach. You are paralyzed, however. It's as if something is holding you back-keeping you from moving forward.
It's quite possible that you have a crying baby in your backseat!
Will you put your entire well being at risk by looking for something (or someone) to pacify him as you drive, swerve, and nearly crash your way forward? OR will you take the time necessary to truly remedy that which needs attention in your life?
I'll just leave it at that.
The answer is up to you.