"That hurt . . . woo hoo!"

The other night I was sitting outside at a coffee shop and down the street there was a mother teaching her 9 year old son to skateboard. I love this image, by the way, he would wobbily roll down the road on his skateboard with his mom trailing behind on hers. If he started to lean, in one swift movement, his mother would push off the ground, catch up, and hold him back up in the right direction. With every car that went by on the cross street, the son would yell in a nervous voice, "They're turning, they're turn . . . oh, nevermind."

It was awesome.

On one occasion, I was looking down when I heard wheels slip and a loud smack. A solid, thwack sound. I looked up and the boy's skateboard was good distance away and he was face first on the ground. He'd bit it pretty good.

It was silence for a moment and then as his concerned mother asked, "Are you ok?", there was a brilliant response.

Still facefirst, still stuck to the place where he's been thrown down to on the pavement, the boy matter-of-factly stated, "That hurt. . . . Woo hoo!"

And with that, he got back up and chased down his skateboard.

I want to be like that.

If you don't know, I'm a huge proponent of hardship and suffering. I strongly believe that comfort, convenience, and familiarity will often block the things God wants to reveal in our lives. If we want to grow, it's going to be uncomfortable, inconvenient, unfamiliar, challenging, and yes, painful.

However, when I get thrown on the pavement, even though I'm a hardship monger, I don't respond with anticipation, I don't respond with faithfulness, I certainly don't say, "Woo hoo!"

But, the kid, he gets it. Yes, its a simple example, but if he's not going to learn to fall off that skateboard, he's never going to ride it.

So here's to you 9 year old. Way to own me in life preparedness!