Small

One of my favorite birthday memories is the first of what has become something of a tradition for my son and I. We share the same birthday, so when he was about 4, we took each other out for lunch at McDonalds. The McDonalds playplace had a gamestation console, and this particular son has a 3D Sensurround Sound imagination that is really drawn to video games. He really does hook into the matrix when he plays. So, while our uneaten burgers and fries waited on the table, we beamed ourselves into the world of MarioKart. I must admit, I may be the worlds worst at videogames, so as he was lapping me, one of his favorite things to do was to hit the Question Box in the track, which would unlock a random power for him to use at will for several seconds. His favorite power to use was what we called the 'smalling' power. He would hit a button on his controller (that didn't seem to exist on mine) and my mariokart player would become half its own size and go really slow for half a lap or so. (I actually liked this because it gave me a chance at staying on the track) I would groan and stomp and taunt appropriately, and he would laugh a sinister 4 year old delighted laugh, and go on hunting for the next Question Box to unleash on the dad.

When our cold burgers and fries were as finished as we could make them, we left for home. When we got home, my Responsible Dad gear kicked in, and after a short lecture on the evils of video gaming, we made up our own MarioKart game, racing around the gnarly old lightning ravaged Oak in our back yard. We incorporated all kinds of obstacles and powers. But his favorite was still to "small" me. Actually he did that one quite regularly. That, and the banana-peal-on-the-track trick. I liked the banana peel better in this race because it gave me a chance to spin out and lie on the ground to catch my breath. The "smalling" however was simply brutal. Go ahead and take a lap around your living room in a duckwalk position, you'll see what I mean. (possibly for days). Every time I'd start gaining on him, he'd small me. And the delighted laughter kept me motivated to do the duckwalk again and again.

So, last Sunday the pastor and a small team came back from a 'missions scouting trip' to Rwanda. The stories of genocied orphans, and tragedy and violence from 1994 were pretty impactful. In the midst of running kids to lessons and games and youth groups, and constantly trying to improve our living and increase our potential, I felt suddenly smalled. I've been duckwalking my way through the week, wondering what DNA fluke ended me and my family in the lap of "hard times because of the cost of gas and gosh, my mutual funds just tanked" and some other family with feelings, dreams, fears and desires just like mine in the lap of a brutal genocide. I've been on lots of mission trips. I've seen poverty, tragedy, hopelessness and fear. I've seen hope and joy in the midst of that stuff as well.
This time I don't quite have a reaction or a coping mechanism.

I just feel the smalling.