WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM- The Circle of Life Doesn't Get Stuck in the Mud

     It was slightly embarrassing. I stood there precariously balancing on my left foot, which was placed in a hunting boot, ankle deep in a mud bath. The muddy sock that contained my right foot dangled in the December air- cold, wet, and humiliated. My footless right boot had stuck in the mud a few feet back and there I stood on one shaky leg, helpless to move. My middle son turned and looked back at me with one of those looks they give you. Moments before, we had been trudging through nearly knee deep mud on a cold, winter Alabama afternoon on our way to try to trick a deer or two into appearing in our rifle scope.
     I'll leave my muddy foot dangling in the air and get back to that in a bit.
     I watched a cartoon movie the other night and as usual, I watched by myself. If you recall from my Christmas column, I'm the only family member left who will watch cartoon Christmas specials and Disney cartoon classics. In this instance, it was the Lion King, and I don't know why, but when I flipped to the channel where it was on, I was hooked.
     There exists in the Lion King this whole idea of a thing called the Circle of Life. What goes around comes around, that sorta thing. But there's more to it than that. It's really about coming of age. As one generation fades, another rises to take its place. We humans seem to accept this idea, yet in many ways, we are hesitant to embrace it.
     Take for example, the gradual passing of the torch from a father to his sons. One day your father is disciplining you as a child, then before you know it, he's your friend. And then you turn around and find yourself taking care of him. It's a strange sort of transition that sometimes progresses in subtle ways.
     This past Christmas, our family spent some time at my parent's house. Dad and Mom are 80 and 78, respectively. Yet I've never thought of them as old. Mom had a doctor make a reference to her being elderly recently and she laughed out loud, as did I when she told me. "Tell the Doc that 90 is the new elderly!" I said. Mom and Dad still migrate south for the winter. They go to dances where they dance more than they watch. They are most certainly not elderly.
     But I did notice on Christmas Eve that Dad, who hadn't been feeling 100%, didn't jump up from the couch when we all decided to relocate to another room. And as I walked by him, he stuck out his hand. He needed some help getting up so I obliged. He's never done that before, which I think is incredible for an 80 year old. But it did send me a message: Dad's not getting any younger and at some point, I may need to help take care of him the way he once took care of me. He's always been a stud of a human being to me. I've always known even to this day, if we were to get in a wrestling match, he would find a way to kick my rear end all over the place.
     They say kids grow up quicker these days. First it's potty training and before you can shake a stick, they've graduated high school and the next thing you know, you're a grandparent. But I'm not buying the idea that they grow up quicker than they used to. There are still 24 hours in a day just like there were 4 or 5 generations ago. It still takes plenty of sweat, tears, restless nights, and multiple years for the transition to occur.
     My wife and I earned every moment of parenthood while my three boys were growing up. We loved it but we wouldn't go back to diaper changing and struggling to get every mouth properly fed in the restaurant before all the food ended up on the floor. Oh, we enjoyed those moments, I guess, but for those who say we should have enjoyed them and appreciated them more at the time, I remind them that we did the best we could. And now we're appreciating them being able to wipe and feed themselves (bein's how they are 25, 22, and 18). And they participate with us in grown up conversations. They are becoming men right before our eyes, and I for one refuse to lament that fact and wish they were children again, even though I wouldn't trade a moment of their childhoods.
     So how does the hunting trip fit in? Recall that I was standing there with one muddy foot dangling in the frigid air, while the other foot-filled boot was stuck in knee deep mud, while an empty boot buried in mud nearby taunted me. This 22 year old son of mine had some choices at that point once he turned and saw me: 1) Point, laugh, and enjoy my predicament by milking it for all it was worth 2) Snap a picture on his cellphone to be posted later on every Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram, Get2KnowYa, Megashare, SunnyandShare, available. (Okay, I made up a few there but you get the point). 3) Continue to walk on and let the old man figure it out himself. After all, I'm  supposed to be the dad who can do anything.
     He chose none of the above. Without speaking, he simply walked back toward me, pried the empty boot from the mud, placed it on my dangling foot, and gently prodded my muddied foot back into its rightful place in the boot. Then he turned and continued to lead us into the woods.
     As he trudged forward, I froze for a moment as it hit me that the Circle of Life had progressed another notch on the wheel. I will always be his dad. But for a moment, this 22 year old was the parent, taking care of a helpless child. What happened? When did he turn into a grown up? What did I do to deserve an adult child who is responsible, considerate, and mature? Same goes for my other two Stroupe boys (for the most part).
     I'll tell you what I (we) did to deserve it. We made tons of mistakes and messed up a lot. But we lived each moment. We cherished each stage. We didn't rush them forward, forcing them to grow up too fast by trying to match them up with a future marriage partner when they were 9 years old. And we also tried to make sure they didn't lag behind in maturity due to us spoiling them by fighting all their battles for them. Somehow, some way, they grew up. Imperfect human beings raised by imperfect parents, but grown.
     Matthew 6:34 reminds us not to worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. I may not have my dad in my life forever, and my children will go on without me someday. But if I waste time worrying about that aspect of the future, I will certainly miss out on the blessings of today. That's what I think the verse is saying. Enjoy each day. Don't try to slow it down or speed it up. If your dad is still around, help him out of the chair. Or fetch his boot from the mud. Either way, embrace the Circle of Life and cherish the now as long as you can.