Ever since Grom was big enough to sit upright in a grocery cart, he's been getting a balloon whenever we shop at Trader Joe's. He used to torture me the entire drive home by rubbing his hands (and teeth) over the tight inflated surface to make noises reminiscent of fingernails on a chalk board. How many kids know that sound now a days in the time of white boards? I used to try to be prepared for him to pop one while I was driving - scaring both of us. When we would get home, I'd make a big deal of letting it go. We'd watch it get smaller and smaller.
Now he's big enough to ask for himself. We get to the checker and he looks up at the balloons and then at his hero and says, "ello baoon peas" or "geen peas" while he points. It gets tied to his wrist and he has great fun with it while I finish my business.
As I push our way to the car, I hear a giggle, a "bye-bye baoon", and then look to see that he has released his treasure.
It reminds me of my treasures; the things I hold so tight. I need to release them, like Grom's balloon, to God. Release my cares as prayers. Release the people I love knowing that God loves them more. Release my stuff as useless in the sight of eternity.
I love how my Father uses my son to teach me about Him.