The Crushing Burden of Reverence

The kid behind me on the airplane kept kicking my seat. It was a long flight, about 6 hours, and he’d kicked it a few times during the first 4. Somewhere around 4.5 hours in, he started repeatedly kicking my seat. I didn’t like children much, and in those days I didn’t know the first thing about them. I thought:

Doesn’t that lady realize her kid is kicking my seat? She must not even be paying attention. Sheesh! People with kids should just drive or stay home until their kids can behave. Why do they make everyone else pay the consequences of their life choices?

I turned around and said, “Could you please ask him to stop kicking my seat?”

Years later the good Lord probably wore a wry little smile when he blessed me with twin boys.

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