I know, I know. In the previous chapter, I wrote about you giving my wings to fly. And now I'm saying you keep me on the ground. It may sound contradictory, but let me explain.
I'm thinking that even angels must need some kind of gravitational pull. Otherwise, they'd just fly off into the atmosphere, wouldn't they? So, while you've gifted me wings, you're also my gravitational force. Talented guy, you are.
While I dream big, I expect big too. You know how it works for me. I want things to be just right. Right now. And when they're not (because they never are), I get a little bit anxious.
And each time, you let me fuss for a while, but you never get too anxious yourself. You just ride it out with me and pretty soon I've landed again.
I remember one particular incident not too long ago. I was in a dither about something or another. I think it had to do with a parenting issue I was concerned about. I let it all out. After laying it all out on the table, I couldn't believe it when you remained so calm. How could you when we were facing a disaster of such magnitude? (Or so it seemed.)
I may or may not have said something like, "I can't believe you are not going to help me do anything about it! I want to figure out what we're going to do! I want to make a plan to fix this problem! Tonight!" (There may or may not have been tears involved.)
And I may or may not have been completely exhasperated when you calmly declined. You said something to the tune of "I don't think we need to fix it tonight. I guess I just think it's going to work out. Sometimes if you just give things a little bit of time, they just work out."
And you know what? A few days later, I thought to myself. What a wise guy. He's right. It just worked out. And who knows. If I'd started to carry out some big plan of attack, it may not have worked itself out so easily.
That's what I'm trying to say. When I get all huffy and fly off the handle trying to save the world, you keep me tethered to reality.
Thanks, babe.
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