Freeze Tag

By Amy B.

The wind was blowing but not enough to cut the heat. To an onlooker it might have looked like we were involved in some crazy chaos on our little patch of yard, but to me it was a game of freeze tag. It was a swirl of smiles, of determined faces, of kids being kids, letting the weight of the world slip off their shoulders while they ran. I saw kids becoming friends, forgetting that they thought they were too cool to play anymore.

Once again, it was time to pick new kids to be “it”. “FREEZE!” I yell, and they all look up at me with expectant faces. Arms shoot up; bouncing and waving and begging begins. I see him, the shortest kindergartener looking up at me with big blue eyes. His face lights up as I point to him. Off we go for another round.

“I can’t do it!” I’m kind of breathing hard from running around, grateful for a chance to stop. “I can’t catch anybody,” he screams at me frustrated. “I’m not big enough. They’re all too fast!” He sits down on the grass for another tantrum. Thankfully the kindergarten attention span is short, and after a moment, he hops up to chase another passing kid. But I see the frustration growing as the distance between chaser and chased gets larger and larger.

“Ah! You’re gonna get me!” I yell as I swoop by him. He runs behind, inches away, inches away. The giggles start to come. Then, tag! I’m frozen, and a full laugh erupts from his mouth. “I got you!” Again, and again, after he’d fail in another chase, OOPS! He’d catch me. Over and over until it was time to yell FREEZE and switch up the roles, he somehow kept getting me. Every time he reached out, if he was truly running, he could catch me. I made sure.

As I was running across the grass, I realized this is how I feel at the Peace Program. Some days I feel like my kindergarten friend, not big enough or fast enough or strong enough to make a difference in the swirling chaos. Yet somehow every time I stretch out my hand, if I’m really running, I grab a hold of something eternal, of Someone eternal. God lets me catch Him. In the midst of a chaotic snack time, in a quiet second at the homework table, in the desperate moments in my prayer closet, in the blue eyes of a kindergartener, I see Him there, and when I see Him, I keep running.

 “I love those who love me, and those who seek me with much desire will find me.” (Prov. 8:17)

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