Do you know why my son is crying?
He wants a waffle.
Baby E is obsessed with waffles. In fact, he sees them everywhere. Holding a hash brown? He thinks its a waffle. The magnets that hold your shower curtain to the inside of your tub? Waffle.
He asks for waffles when he wakes up. He asks for more waffles after he has taken two bites of his first waffle. Has it been ten minutes since his last waffle? He’ll ask for another. Lunch? Waffle. Dinner? More Waffles. Even putting him in his crib at night he begs for one more waffle.
Now before you think that maybe he calls all foods waffles, I should tell you that this child knows his own mind and he knows that not all foods are created equal and when he wants a waffle, he will accept no substitute.
So tonight, when I gave him his dinner he begged for a waffle. I said no. His plate was covered in pasta, chicken, and veggies and he wanted a waffle. Sorry sir, not tonight. And so he did the only thing he knows how to do in the face of tragic disappointment, he screamed and shrieked and carried on in hopes it would change my mind. It didn’t. He never got a waffle tonight. He cried for one as I laid him down.
Tomorrow, son, tomorrow.
But it got me thinking… tonight my son cried like the world was ending over a waffle. Oh that our problems were that simple. He has no idea that half a world away a man drove a huge truck into a crowd of people that had gathered to watch fireworks. He doesn’t know that dozens of people died senseless deaths and he doesn’t understand how much pain and heartbreak is going on in the world, and how as individuals, we are powerless to stop it. There are broken bodies and broken families going through hell right now, in the early stages of a lifetime of grief. My heart aches for them as the sun will soon rise on a wounded people and a wounded country.
Tonight I pray for Nice. I pray for comfort. I pray for relief. I pray for peace.