The Drama of a Mama

Today I came home from our last staff day before starting school tomorrow, and things were hectic, as usual. I was talking to a close friend on my cell phone. It was important to us. Addi was not wanting to get out of the car-pushing every button on and beside the steering wheel. Clayton was excited to play with his buds he hadn't seen all day and started asking for his bike--all of this while I was dealing with mama drama (that was very important) on the phone. Clayton started to ask, "Where's my bike? I can't find it. It's been stolen!" I figured his dad had hidden it; trying to teach him a lesson about putting his things away. Then he brings me a business card off the front door that was from the Police Dept. My heart immediately sank down to my stomach. Then I read on the back of the card, "I have your son's bike. It was stolen. Please call me." Honestly, with being at the school so much, I didn't even realize it was missing. All of a sudden, I had my own "real" drama to deal with. Somebody had messed with my baby!! The bike (and 4 others) was stolen by a group of boys Mon. night-after Clayton was through playing that evening. He was with me at my school at "Meet the Teachers" until last night at about 7pm. So he didn't get to play outside. Therefore, he didn't notice it until today. The boy that took his was only 14, and one of them was 10. They were all arrested. He had gotten his bike for Christmas, and it looked practically brand new. The thugs that took it painted it-stole and 8 yr. old's bike and painted it. Suddenly, I was wishing I could turn into Wonder Woman, the super hero that was my favorite when I was his age. Then I could use my super powers, fix the bike, have my way with those juvenile delinquents, and all would be right with the world.
After talking to my mom, who had helped us get the bike, because everywhere in the Jackson area was sold out of the one he wanted, she helped me feel a lot better about things. At least the boy was honest about stealing the bike. That's how they found out it came from our house. We have to get it tomorrow from the police station--maybe the new paint job they gave it will not be too bad. He cried when I told him, but it will be okay. Today taught me a great lesson in humility. I wanted to scream about justice and punishment to my son. But instead, God lead me towards teaching him(again) about forgiveness and praying for your enemy. Talk about difficult! If our children do not learn it from us, then who will they get it from? That is something to think about.