My brothers and I went on a bike ride this weekend. 500 miles across Michigan’s upper peninsula. Side-by-sides were everywhere, both for work and recreation . Nearing the end we stopped off at a roadside outlook. Cool stuff. Michigan is amazingly beautiful. As we’re gearing up to get back on the road, a couple passed us with a couple of grandkids. I could see them eyeballing out bikes. The youngest appeared fascinated. So I spoke up. “He can sit on it if you want to”. So they hoisted him onto my bike. At first he looked confused or bewildered. Then I fired up the bike and let him twist the throttle. His face lit up like he was one of us. We baptized a biker. Grandparents were gushing with pride. Everyone celebrated.

Only after getting on the road did I remember that they had another grandson. No one payed him any attention. We barely even acknowledged he was there. Crushing regret. I’ve had my own experiences of neglect and isolation. It affects me today. And now I visited those sins on another 4 year old.

At first I thought I would need to pray for forgiveness from the universe. In my imagination, I helped affirm any negative thing he thought of himself. Not worthy. Doesn’t matter. Loved less. Insignificant.

That was in my imagination.

Today I’m hiding behind the blanket of control. It’s not mine. I don’t decide what happens to other people or how they deal with life. Recently I’ve come to the perspective that coping with those things helped make me who I am. Im not taking a greenlight to infliction misery on others as an attempt to build anyone else’s character. I’m sorry I did it this time.