The boys were giddy with excitement. Cole awoke at 5 AM and would not go back to sleep. The day had finally arrived. Not Christmas, as you might expect, that was when we got the tickets. Today was the day we finally got to use them. Monster Jam!
Before the show, we went to the pit party and the boys were able to walk amongst the monstrous machines. We talked with drivers and tried not to get run over by the mob of devoted fans. The pre-show was entertaining as little kids raced their four wheelers around the track. Seconds ticked down as the show was about to start and we found our seats.
BOOM! A loud explosion and the lights went out. Fire erupted in a shower of sparks and the beasts roared to life. Cole was terrified. He was ready for the trucks, but went into sensory overload with the cacophony of noise and fireworks. What was once a moment of great anticipation, became a moment of great fear. He buried his face in my chest, crying "Daddy I want to go!"
I held him, whispering reassurance in his ears. After the initial onslaught, he uncoiled and began to watch the show. Still flinching when the noise grew in volume, he found peace in arms wrapped tightly around him. Eventually, my dad took him for a walk.
If you ask him today, he loved it and is excitedly talks about the trucks.
How quickly, what we once anticipated can lead to anxiousness when we stand upon it's threshold. And yet we find peace, in the arms that hold us, as we boldly step forward.
The question becomes, do we listen to the noise and run away or the whisper and take the step?