"I tan't see!"

As Juliet approaches her second birthday and grows more and more conversant every day, I wonder even more how much of my personality is rubbing off on her. Many parents have told me that the most convicting thing about having children is to see your own sin in their little hearts and lives. Well, whether it's my influence or our shared birth order as first children, we are both experts at one thing: backseat driving.

If you have ever driven me anywhere, you can almost certainly attest to this. I like to know where I'm going, I generally do, I pay attention to your driving, and I rarely hesitate to offer navigational advice from your backseat. I could go ahead and blame it on my dad, world's best driver, rides with no one, seasoned Atlanta commuter for 20 years. In all honesty, I did learn from the best. But the truth is, I probably owe you an apology for bossing you around when you were, in fact, serving me.

Rest assured, I am getting a heaping dose of my own medicine these days as Juliet and I scoot around town to music class, story time, and parks across north Atlanta. 

It started a few months ago with, "How 'bout....this way?" as she points opposite my turn signal at every stop light or sign. I try to explain, "We can't go that way because the park/stories/music is this way." Funny how little she understands of the concepts despite her ability to say all the words. Sometimes she'll even pucker her lips, furrow her brow, and pout, "But I don't want to go that way."

(I wish I could express through writing how comical her pronunciation is these days. All -ck sounds are still -t, most -n and -g sounds are -d, and -w is likely to be -v.)

As her color identifying skills have been perfected in the last month, she has become fascinated with announcing traffic light status reports every chance she gets. It goes something like this:

"The wight is wed. Wed means stop!" ("The light is red. Red means stop!")

"The wight is deed. Doe, Tayee, doe!" ("The light is green. Go, Katie, go!")

She gets particularly concerned when I turn right on red, a grey-area her baby-mind cannot quite grasp yet.

But my personal favorite of the last two weeks has come about when we stop behind several bigger cars at a light. Juliet strains with all her might to peer around the front seat in order to give her light color report.

"I tan't see! I tan't see!"

And then.

"Tayee and Juyet are stut! Dat bid tar's in da way!" 

I try to explain two things, neither of which seem to go over very well.

"It's ok, JuBe, you don't need to see. Katie can see, and only Katie is driving."

Followed by.

"We're not stuck, sweet girl. We are just waiting for our turn."

She will typically calm down for a moment, but it's only a matter of time before we find ourselves "stut" at another of the five thousand lights around the Perimeter Mall area. 

And as much as I start to feel bored of the conversation by the fifth round on a one-way ride, I have to chuckle and know I do the same thing to Jesus. "I can't see! I can't see! We're stuck! That big ____ is in the way!"

And it is just as absurd for me to worry as it is for Juliet. Tucked into His arms of grace, buckled in by His blood, I am just along for the ride. Same as with Juliet, my ability to see or make navigational choices is not critical to getting where I'm going. Oh for sure, I could mutiny and take back the wheel. Sometimes I do. But if I am trusting Jesus to drive, I can relax and enjoy His company.