Hello friends! This is Peregrino, a newsletter about the journey. You’re about to read essay #33 of “40 Before 40,” a memoir I intend to finish before I enter midlife in Q1 2024. The previous 32 essays in this series can be found here.
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My 2-year-old is my alarm clock. Most days, around 5:30 am, some days earlier, I’ll wake up to “Mom? Dad? I need you!” He repeats that until Diana or I walk into his room, get him out of the crib, and try to finish waking up. There’ll be special occasions, like when my mother-in-law visits, when I’ll try to keep the baby quiet and in his room so he doesn’t wake Grandma and the other kids.
I had to get creative to keep him quiet. He loves to cuddle, so I had him lie on me while I was lying on the couch, and I had a big puffy blanket on top of us. He started getting restless, so I pretended my left hand was a puppet. He named my hand-puppet “Puppet Shadow” (it was dark) and told it about his room, dad, and the ceiling fan. If you’re wondering if I am making this up, please remember that my 2-year-old has three older siblings, so he has been forming sentences faster than any of our other kids have.
Once he got tired of talking to Puppet Shadow, my son demanded we play hide and seek. He covered himself with the puffy blanket and told me to count. He giggled as I said: “Ready or not, here I come.” I’m the kind of seeker who thinks out loud about where the hiders might be. “I wonder if he could be outside the room. Impossible. Maybe he took a shrinking pill and hid between the couch pillows.” The giggling increased. Once I “found him” by taking the puffy blanket off his face, he demanded it was my turn to hide. So, I obliged and told him to count until twenty, which I know he can’t, but it was more for show than anything. I “hid” under the blanket and waited for him to find me, mimicking the same thinking-out-loud strategy of mine. We did that for ten minutes straight, taking turns “hiding.”
Mateo taught me about the joy of being found.
Playing hide and seek with the kids has become a staple. Sometimes, they play alone; other times, they want Diana or me to be the seeker. One morning, the three younger kids and I were playing. Lucia and Mateo hid under the big puffy blanket, lying on the ground, their favorite move. My 6-year-old, Emilio, is very good at hiding. After finding the two younger ones, I started walking away from the room, thinking Emilio would be elsewhere. And then I heard him cry inconsolably. I ran back into the room, thinking that he was hurt, opened the closet door, and found him balling his eyes out.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” I asked him, thinking maybe he was afraid of the dark. “I wanted you to find me,” he replied. He jumped into my arms, and I hugged him hard for a minute. I explained that I would’ve found him sooner or later, that our home isn’t that large, and that I know all the places he likes to hide in. But reason and logic didn’t help. Eventually, he calmed down, and we decided to play something else.
Emilio taught me about the pain of wanting to be found.
This interaction with my children made me think of my relationship with God. He has always been tirelessly seeking me. I was seeking Him in my mid-twenties until I found Him. Once I found Him and knew marriage was my vocation, seeking that person who would be my wife was the next adventure. And so, I married Diana and became a husband. Then, Diana made me a father. And now, I’m trying to be the father He wants me to be for these four souls. He thought it was a good idea for me to be in charge of them. Some days, I don’t feel up to snuff, so I seek Him. I seek His mercy and grace so I can extend that to Diana and the kids.
Sometimes, it feels like God is hiding from us. We don’t feel His presence. Awful things happen to us; suffering, sickness, and even death creep into our lives. In times like this, we join our voice to the psalmist’s and say: “From whence shall come my help?” (Psalm 121:1). My spiritual director once told me: “Whenever you face a difficult situation, ask the Lord: ‘what do you want me to learn from this?’” Which is easier said than done. In the moment, you may be hurting and can’t stop to think.
I’ve been working on delaying my reactions. Let me elaborate. Most times, when something unpleasant happens to me, my default is going to anger. I recognize something unjust has happened to me; therefore, I’m upset. I don’t like it. But what if instead of defaulting to anger, I stop to think, what’s happening here? Someone cut me off on the road. They shouldn’t do that. I have two options. I could be uncharitable with my thoughts and maybe even words, or I could give them the benefit of the doubt and pretend they have a sick relative in the hospital, and that’s why they’re absent-minded and cutting people off. Sometimes, I pretend they’re peeing their pants, and they want to get to the closest gas station bathroom.
I have options, but it’s easier for me to default to anger. It takes work to build the dam that contains my emotions. It is as if I’m a beaver, putting sticks of prudence together. It is like a muscle I need to train to get stronger so it holds a heavier load before it gives out. It is easy to be lazy and let my emotions take over. Engaging reason and logic and pausing before doing or saying anything takes practice. It takes intentionality.
I’m trying to seek my wife and children and allow them to find me. I’m trying to soften the hard edges of my heart and let God form it how He sees fit. I’m trying to find Him in the mundane, in the day-to-day. Oh, but when I find Him in my kids’ laughter, cuddles, kisses, and the delight of their childhood games, what a joy! If only I allow myself to be childlike and enter into their world. If only I had left my worries and concerns as an adult at the door and just played. If only I put my phone down and pay full attention to the person in front of me. If only I could find Jesus in others, how different would hide and seek be?
Before you go
I have some questions for you.
If you could hide anywhere in the world, where would you go?
Which Les Mis song has the lyric “I am found” in it, and which character sings it?
Have you found God? Has He found you?
Beautifully written!
1. In my bed with the heated mattress cover set to 11.
2. No idea. My dad is reading the book right now, though. Gotta catch up to him!
3. I've found God but somehow manage to forget to keep my eyes fixed on him from time to time. He's found me, but his eyes never waver.