The Rain Cycle

Photo by David McBee on Pexels.com

One Friday morning a few weeks’ ago, Unique decided to cycle to school. With the longer days and her advancement into double figures, Geof and I had decided that she should be allowed to ride her bike in the local area. She old also inherited my old mobile phone to maintain contact in the event of an emergency.

Eager to put her new found independence into practice, on this particular morning however, her decision was quite spontaneous and unplanned. Normally on a school morning Unique will walk round the corner to her friend E’s house and then they walk to school together. Despite calmly reminding Unique that this had not been properly arranged with E and that he would have to walk; that there was not time to get everything together before we both needed to leave the house – on time, and that heavy rain was forecast for the afternoon,  I could see that she wasn’t going to budge from her insistent standpoint which was verging on a full on hissy fit.

Unwilling to give into her foot stamping tantrum but seriously pressed for time I reluctantly relented, loosely defaulting to the Danny Silk school of parenting; this was not my problem therefore she would have to solve it and live with the consequences of her choices. I say loosely, because while on autopilot, I supplied her with a sheet of kitchen paper to wipe the seat dry in the highly likely event of rain. So much for enabling her to experience the consequences of her own choices. I mentally kicked myself and with a heavy sigh and sent her off to school.

Boy did it rain that day. Not so secretly, I was delighted. My dear Miss Thoroughly Grown Up and Independent Daughter would soon come to realise that Mother was right and I would be smugly vindicated. Several miles away from her school, as 3.15pm approached, I imagined her struggling to cycle around in the rain until Youth Club began. At 6.30 Geof collected her and allowed her to cycle home, as the bike wouldn’t fit easily into the car.

As they both walked into the house together, Unique was telling her dad how it had rained all day but then had stopped after school and therefore didn’t have to cycle in the rain at all. Regardless of the fact that she expressed her gratitude for the piece of kitchen paper, I was more than a little irritated that the situation was not quite as I had expected.

I launched into a full on rant to God that good and poor choices had consequences, and that all I wanted was for my daughter to learn to make good choices.

Straight back at me came the words, “She’s my daughter too”.

No one knows or understands her needs better than her Heavenly Father. I am so grateful that when necessary, through his all seeing wisdom, he will put her needs ahead of mine. I also recognise that God is allowing her to cultivate her own relationship with him and that he will teach and correct her in his own way, just as he teaches me and each one of his precious children. To me, these are what make up the incomparable riches of being his child. They are certainly high up on my list of favourite types of blessings.

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. 12 In those days when you pray, I will listen. 13 If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.

Jeremiah 29

Geof made Unique wipe down her bike thoroughly with an old towel so it wouldn’t rust.

She has not asked to ride her bike to school since.