As we neared the park today, I could hear Rowen in the backseat saying, "I hope there aren't any kids there." He craned his neck and we rounded the bend in the road to see if there were other children on the playground. I spotted them first, and held my breath waiting for the reaction. I could hear the anxiety in his voice when he saw them and started to chant, "I don't want to go!"
Brenner and I pooled from our bag of tricks to reassure him. Though he wasn't buying, he reluctantly got out of the car and began walking. We reached the playground where a few kids were happily playing together. And then, Rowen became the invisible boy.
He started around the perimeter of the playground, his usual train whistle blowing loud. I saw him steal a glance or two at the other kids, but he kept going. He stopped short of a little girl, but never broke stride. He was a train, after all. Not a boy. Trains apply their brakes and stop, but they don't talk. They just blow their whistles and trudge forward.
I saw a few kids glancing his way with quizzical looks, but Rowen sure didn't notice. He was too scared to play with the other kids, so he lost himself in his train routine and became my invisible child.
I immediately pull out my crystal ball and see more of the same in the future. I know he has it in him to cross the barriers. He can when he feels comfortable. And that becomes an entirely different story of coaching him into the give and take of relationships. That's an emotional roller coaster that can easily take Rowen out for the count.
I often ask Rowen what makes him so scared to approach other children. He just says, "mommy, I'm shy." That's all I've ever gotten out of him, but then again it's enough. He wants to cross the barrier and be successful but he's often pulled into a world that most don't understand.
The other children left and Rowen became Rowen again. I looked up to see him on the tire swing, and then on the climbing wall with no one else but his daddy. He's Rowen's best buddy through thick and thin. They laughed away the chilly February day at the park and I felt a peace come over me. God would lead the way. He started with us as Rowen's parents, and I'm grateful for that. We must be doing something right... at least I hope so. I take comfort in knowing that God knows what He is doing even when I don't. Even through an invisible boy.
