HEROS

Every night before Eli goes to bed we call Dada at work so they can talk. And faithfully every night Dada tells Eli over the phone, “I’ll come in and give you kisses and hugs when I get home”. Last night, before Dada had a chance to tell Eli he'd come in to kiss him, Eli asked Dada, “you come tiss and hug me in my woom?” Dada laughed and said, “yes I will big guy…..every night”. I saw my husband as my hero in that moment putting up boundaries around our kids to make them safe and secure. The hours he works to provide make time as a family and communication very difficult at times. Tonight I realized that those little phone calls we make routinely are not so little at all. God can use the smallest of things to bring about His will. Through one phone conversation with a Dada and a little boy I was reminded I have a hero, I have a husband who loves his boys dearly and I have a warrior fighting to leave a legacy.

Tonight, in the middle of the night I was awoke slowly out of my dream, yet uncertain if what was happening was real or still part of my dream. The wail of a distant train whistle was being carried by the wind to our bedroom window. Trailing it, for the briefest moment, I thought I heard another noise. In only a matter of twenty seconds, yet somehow it seemed longer, I assessed the situation and realized for certain this indeed was real and no longer my dream. By the third blow of the trains whistle the trailing sound now carried a fraction of a second longer so I could tell it was Eli crying out in fear. I’m certain I am not alone here when I say, “the distance from a parents room to their child can seem like its miles away.”

I threw back the covers, ran toward his room, kicking myself for not turning up the monitor last night before closing my eyes, and couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t running to us as he usually does. Rounding the hallway I threw on the light and went in his room to find him standing next to his bed in tears, crying something over and over loudly! “Wubby Bubby, Wubby Bubby, Wubby Bubby” as he looked bewildered at his bed and covers tossed back. I don’t know what was more disturbing to me; the look of fear on his face, the confusion of why he would stand next to his bed and not run to us if he was scared , the fear coming from his voice and I wanted to fix it or just the fact that the situation looked as if he was scared of Wubby Bubby....lol. I scooped him up as he repeated again and again, “Wubby Bubby” offering him a ‘shh shh, it’s okay, we’re right here, Dada and Momma love you’ and “oh my goodness what happened?”. The yells ceased and he finally cried calmer with a sense of relief on the way, “can’t find Wubby Bubby”. I pulled the covers back farther and found Wubby Bubby close to the bottom of the bed. Reaching out in relief he held Wubby Bubby close and just sobbed. As I laid him back down in his bed he said, “bad dweam momma, bad dweam”. I asked what it was about and he said, “bad guys”….still crying with a look on his face as if this was all too real to him. I questioned further, “why didn’t you come to Dada and Momma’s room?" And a deep heavy cry came out of him, “I toodent find Wubby Bubby!” with an attitude as if it was obvious…lol. I asked him, “were you trying to save him?” He said with a definite ‘dah momma’ to his voice, “YESH…from bad guys!”

Heroes come in all sizes! And how they defend shows their heart for who or what they defend. Our little hero showed us in no uncertain terms that Wubby Bubby, and more than likely ‘who’ gave him Wubby Bubby, were worth defending…even if he had to stay and fight the bad guys. I have no doubt that the little hero learned this from the Big Hero….his Dada!