When The Cowboy Was A Lamb

From the time my son Connor could crawl, he carried a, "Woody the Cowboy," doll with him. Woody was his constant companion until he started Kindergarten and his teacher Mrs. Butler told him that no toys were allowed at school. Connor couldn't understand why his teacher didn't know that Woody was no toy, he was a friend.

In nearly every picture we have of Connor he is holding Woody by the arm in his left hand. If you saw Connor you saw Woody. We did have to separate Connor and Woody once as Woody had been used as a weapon. Other than that Woody sat with us at the dinner table, slept in Connors bed, was smuggled in backpacks, and went on every vacation with us. Let's just say, they were inseparable.

One night when Connor was three-years-old, I was tucking him into his, "big boy bed." We were in the middle of saying our nightly prayer when Connor sat straight up, eyes wide, panic stricken. "DAD! I left Woody at the church!"

"It's okay Connor, the church is a safe place. I'll get him tomorrow morning when I go in to the office" I assured him.

"NO! We have to go now."

"Connor, it's bedtime. I'm not going up to the church to get Woody. I'll get him tomorrow," I said a bit more firmly.

"Dad, you don't have to go alone. I'll go with you that way it's not scary. Woody's there alone. That's scary!" Connor shot back with such fervor I knew that this argument was not going to be won.

"ALRIGHT. Put on some shoes and I'll get our coats." It was late and I didn't want to go back to the church again to look for a toy, but I realized to Connor we were going to rescue something much more precious than a toy.

So we set out on our search and rescue mission. Dad and his little sidekick Pajama Boy with the shoes that lit up with every step. We jumped into my pickup and headed to the church building in search of our adopted family member. As I drove, Pajama Boy directed me from his car seat to, "drive faster!" Red lights annoyed him beyond belief. Our safety was not an issue, the retrieval of Woody was priority number one.

We pulled into the church parking lot and Connor immediately started to unbuckle himself from his carseat. "Come on Dad. He's in there alone. IN THE DARK," He said. I unlocked a door on the north side of the building and as soon as I did there went Pajama Boy to the rescue. I was amazed that Connor rushed into the dark building, he was afraid of the dark, but his momentum was the mission. I could only see blinking lights on his shoes as he charged forward as if he were a fireman running toward the fire. I started to turn on lights as I heard Connor running around calling, "WOODY! WHERE ARE YOU?" I couldn't help but smile.

I finally stopped his frantic search, knelt down, and asked, "Connor where did you leave him?"

With a look of more than mild annoyance he answered, "That doesn't matter Dad. He's been running around trying to find me. " If you've not seen the movie, "Toy Story," then you must know that the toys have lives of their own when people aren't around. Connor was sure that his buddy was running here, there, and everywhere in search of a way out of the building.

"Dad come on. Let's keep looking. WOODY! WHERE ARE YOU?" He yelled at the top of his lungs. Urging me to call for him too.

"Ummmmm...Woody, where are you?" I said with much less enthusiasm.

"No, you have to yell it like this. WOODY! WHERE ARE YOU?" He said with his little hands cupped around his mouth as a makeshift megaphone. And off we went SuperDad and his sidekick Pajama Boy yelling like crazy people in an empty church in search of a toy...I mean Woody.

When we reached Woody he was in a hallway by the choir room. Connor decided that he must have gotten tired of all the running and tried to take a nap. I will never forget my son running to his friend, picking him up and assuring him that he'd never leave him there again by himself. It was one of those moments you store up in your heart to play back when the other less fuzzy moments come. It's an evening I'll never forget.

We drove home and Connor was tucked into bed with Woody by his side, both covered up with Blankie, and off to sleep they went.

You learn things from a lot of different people. Some are older than you, and some younger. I learned something from my son that night. Jesus' parable of the shepherd leaving the 99 sheep to find the one lost lamb, and when found picking up the lost one and taking him back to the fold came to mind when I saw the urgency and single-minded devotion to finding his lost loved Woody.

Darkness didn't deter him, and our Shepherd, Jesus came to overcome darkness. Fear didn't matter, and Jesus said to His Father, "Not my will, but yours," when a torturous task was looming. The elation of finding Woody reminded me of the rejoicing in heaven when he who was lost is found. Connor bringing him safely home to sleep in a nice warm bed helped me understand more how our Savior continually leads us home with the warmth of his love.

I still remember the day Connor left Woody on his bed for good. He didn't need him any more. He was a bigger boy on his way to manhood faster than I can imagine with no way to slow it. We still have Woody, but now I'm his guardian. He'll be in no garage sales or donations to charity because he's Woody. He's dirty, written on, a tear on one leg. Well-loved is a better description. He's the reminder to me that at the end of life I'll be worn, torn, and well-loved, but, once upon a time, My Father ran into the darkness to find me, his lost child, and brought me back to Him.