ISOLATION

I avoid the playground at the park where Jonathan and I walk.  Parents don’t look me in the eye. And I get it. Jonathan is a little man now, 5’ 2”, with a mustache and beard shadow. (We haven’t tackled shaving yet.) Cooing or growling repeatedly, he scuffs up mulch, walking in circles around the playground, eyes focused at a forty-five degree downward.  On the bouncing mulch. People aren’t as interesting as the brightly colored swing swaying to and fro. No doubt slightly alarming to Mom as he veers towards the yellow object that holds her toddler. “Watch out, Jonathan! He won’t hurt her,” I reassure. But this naturally gregarious soul isn’t handling the rejection well. Even though I understand the discomfort. So I find myself skirting the playground lately.  And I’m lonely.

Funny, though.  Just as I am becoming borderline-jaded, Jonathan and I have another Walmart adventure.  The tail end of a rather successful quick trip in and out, Jonathan slips out of the mammoth kiddy cart I push him in.  At the same time, I notice my credit card on the floor, and convince myself that I can grab that and him next. By the time I straighten up, he’s in a full sprint for the front entrance, about 10-15 feet ahead of me.  I didn’t know I could run that fast anymore. 

Returning to my line, a man standing by asks me if I need help getting to the car. My automatic stranger danger alarm goes off so I politely decline. I apologize to the older couple behind me as I do a 3 point turn with the cart  to get it out of their way. “Whatever it takes, no hurry,” says the grandmotherly woman. Her husband smiles encouragingly. A few feet away, a lady catches my eye and smiles, too.

On the way into the pool  with Jonathan, a young man opens the door for us with a smile that takes in Jonathan.  

What a contrast. I wish I could predict the smiles or the avoidance. I’d just go where the smiles are. Leaving the playground, I feel drained. Alone. But a smile that includes Jonathan, or even a compassionate acknowledgement of the struggle, builds courage, invites joy. Someone else sees Jonathan’s worth. Walking into the pool, I am smiling, too.

Ultimately, I know I am never alone.  Jesus is with me, and Jonathan, always. But I think He sends me people sometimes, to remind me of that.