My Brett has beautiful skin and from the time he was little I liked the healthy glow he'd get from the sun. It made his sightless, gorgeous blue eyes stand out more than ever. I loved taking him on walks, letting him get a healthy dose of vitamin D and a touch of color too.

One sunny day I suggested Dane ride his bike up to the ice cream shop and Brett and I would meet him up there.

I passed a woman on the sidewalk. She looked closely at Brett. "The sun sure is bright today."

"It's beautiful," I agreed and continued on my way.

As I approached the door to the ice cream shop, a police car came screeching up and stopped at an angle. A police officer jumped out.

A patron was holding the door for me, "Looks like somebody's in trouble."

"I guess so!" I agreed.

"Ma'am?"Heavens! Was he talking to me?? My heart lurched. Please God don't let anything have happened to Dane.

"Ma'am, I need to have a few words with you." He approached me, "Is your baby wearing sunscreen?" He was accusatory, not friendly.

"Yes, he is." I foolishly held up the bottle of sunscreen as "evidence." The truth was I only had the sunscreen with me because I let him get 20 minutes of unfiltered sun before I applied it.

The officer wasn't impressed. "Why don't you have the canopy over the stroller, so at least the sun isn't in his eyes?"

"Well, he's blind." What a stupid, stupid thing to say. Was I looking for sympathy?

"All the more reason to have the canopy up!"

He came closer, inspecting Brett from head to toe. Apparently satisfied he wasn't burnt, he got back in his squad car and drove away.

I was devastated. Mortified. Humiliated. I barely made it around the corner of the building before I fell to the curb and sobbed my heart out. Huge, gut-wrenching sobs. I think I sobbed harder then than I did when Brett's team of doctors told us he'd never respond to us.

Somehow Dane found me. Alarmed, he jumped off his bike and sat beside me on the curb. He could barely make out what I was saying. He patted my back, "It's okay. You're a good mom."

He hit on the crux of it. I didn't feel like a good mom. It hurt that the officer and bystanders thought I was neglectful, possibly even abusive. I looked at my sweet, oblivious Brett. His skin was flushed. Maybe I had burnt him. My poor baby! As if he didn't have enough troubles! I bet I sat there sobbing for a good half hour before finally getting up and walking home.

As I walked, I became angry. How dare that officer speak to me that way, humiliate me like that!

Bob called the station to complain and the officer told him he'd call and apologize. Bob asked me to be respectful, we sure didn't want to be black balled by the local police department.

The officer did call and explained they had to follow up on complaints, but he was sorry I responded the way I did. That's an apology???

"You could have handled it better. Why squeal up there like I was a dangerous felon? And what would you have done if he wasn't wearing sunscreen?"

"If my touch would have left a white mark on his skin, I would have reported you to protective services."

Angry indignation made my voice louder than I intended, "I suggest you forget trying to stop crime and save lives, instead, why don't you station officers at local pools? I'm sure they'd find plenty of sunburnt children to keep them busy."

Then I hung up on him. I wasn't respectful and I felt just as guilty and heartsick as ever. All because of my stupid pride. All because I wanted Brett to look as healthy and normal as possible. All because some lady found me unworthy enough to sic the police on me.

Thankfully, as flawed as I am, Christ ensured my worthiness in God's eyes, and His eyes are the only ones that ultimately matter, "For these light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." (2 Cor, 4:17). Amen to that!




A couple of side notes:
I have an enormous amount of honor and respect for police officers. They risk their lives every day to keep us safe and the climate in this country is making their job more dangerous than ever. I am extremely grateful for their service.
If I wasn't so tech-illiterate I could figure out how to attach an old picture of my sun-kissed baby Brett showing off his bright blue eyes. Maybe if I change my cover photo it'll work. We'll see.