Hide and Seek

Aaron LOVES playing hide and seek.

He anticipates this game for hours and bubbles over with joy for the entire time anyone is willing to play it with him.

 On his favorites list, hide and seek ranks right up there with eating candy.

That's high.

The only thing is, Aaron's version of hide and seek is a little bit different from what most people know as hide and seek.

He likes order and predictability in his world.

So, when he hides, he almost always hides in the same place.

Usually behind the door in my office.

And when Aaron is "It", he always provides detailed instructions so that his hiders will know exactly where they are supposed to hide.
That way, he can easily find them.

Even if they play ten rounds of hide and seek, he tries to send his hiders to the same hiding place every time. 

And he happily finds them there, each time.

With as much joy and surprise as if he had worked hard to figure out where they were.

Aaron plays hide and seek like a small toddler plays it.  With a deep need for sameness and security. 
With a fragile understanding that hiders can be found again. 
He doesn't want the game to be hard. 
He isn't interested in having his hiders disappear on him for any length of time.

He knows what it is to be lost.  Hidden.  Left behind. 
He knows deep within his soul what it means to be abandoned. 

He was a Lost Boy for six years.

So he plays hide and seek with his Papa and his brothers in a way that minimizes unpleasant surprises.

  And he makes sure that they can find him with ease.

Because the joy isn't in the seeking. It's in the finding!

And this is One Former Little Lost Boy who never wants to ever truly be Lost again.