She giggled – nearly laughed aloud. I looked up from my laptop and over at the table across the way and spied a grinning mother watching her exuberant young daughter with obvious affection and joy. I followed her gaze to the little pixie bouncing and flopping and rolling with glee on the trampoline floor. I could not suppress a smile myself.
I turned my attention to the large square mat on which Joshua lined up with 18 other Tae Kwon Do disciples. I searched and located my son, a be-spectacled warrior and the brightest young prodigy on the floor. He still beams with bliss when he spars. Practicing kicks above your head, one after the other on rapid succession – well, it takes my breath away just watching! Joshua, however, almost seems to find his breath as he jumps and spins and kicks, as if he were made for this.
What is it about children, our own children, when we see them caught up in the delight of play or even strenuous exercise that thrills us so? I think it must be more than pride, something more substantial than seeing them as “a chip off the old block.” I wonder if in our children, specifically in the pride and pleasure we derive from watching them try and triumph, we might gain some grasp of the Father-heart of God.
When our kiddos volunteer to tell me what they think is really cool, in other words, what they think would be a cool Christmas present for them, my first impulse is to want to find out what in the world they are talking about! Honestly, I am anything but in-the-know when it comes to stuff like Webkinz® or PSP or NDS! Still, generally, I want to know what they want and try to find a way to get that for them if such gifts align with what we, their parents, deem most helpful for their pursuit of God’s best in their lives. Sometimes, I think some of the things they ask for are silly, but some of their wishes stun me by the maturity of taste and affection they suggest resides in our kids’ hearts. I wonder, what does Father make of the requests I make to Him? Do the things I ask God to do or give reflect a heart bound fast to this world or to His ways, His works, and His will?
When I watch my children open their Christmas gifts, I embrace a confident satisfaction that we have selected for them the perfect gift, that present that fits them best and that ideally expresses our love for each child in their personal love language. I also wonder, though, if they will appreciate the gift and all it represents. How does my appreciation for and application of the gifts God gives me touch His heart?
When they come to me or to Donna to discuss what gift they might give their brother or sister, I am thrilled that they have learned to love one another in the same way their parents love them. Moreover, I am often amazed by their insights into their siblings wants and needs. When I read the words our kids write about and to one another in their blogs or community messages on the Internet, my heart stands up and melts at the same time. I love how they love one another, how they are such friends to one another. Somehow, I feel like they honor me by their fondness and care for each other. What does Father make of my treatment of other people – my brothers and sisters in Christ and my cousins in Adam? How well do I know my brother or my neighbor? How well do I serve them?
When I hear my children writing and singing hymns of worship together, I revel as much in their affection for Jesus Christ as I do in the splendid development of their talents and blending of their voices. What does the nature and frequency and fervency of my contribution to worship with one or two, or a small group, or a congregation of fellow believers say about my devotion and gratitude to Christ our King? How does Father receive my worship?
When all our children come home to celebrate Christmas together under one roof, I get a sense of equilibrium as if everything is just about right with the world again. Somehow, the house seems warmer, more complete, and all the furniture more perfectly arranged when Lauryn, Bethany, Jonathan, Joshua, and Caitlyn are all home laughing and singing together or even sleeping. The house comes alive and becomes that for which it was originally constructed, namely, our home. When does our connectedness as members of
When I see any of our brood settling for less than their potential, I want to lift their chins and direct their eyes to higher aims. I also want to provide for them every resource available to me to help them reach ridiculous goals for God’s glory. How many provisions have I missed or misappropriated when God intended them to inspire and enable me to attempt the heroic for His honor? How has Father been able to keep from throwing up His hands in disgust at the mediocrity I all-too-often embrace? How is it He continues to persuade and push me beyond what I see? He must see something I do not, and He sees it in me (and you). Shouldn’t that be enough to inspire us all?
As much as in me is, when my children try something new, I cheer for them. When they fall, falter, or even fail, I hurt for them and implore them to get up and try again. When they are hurt by what other kids say or do, after I squelch a desire to punch the offending kid in the snot-locker, I seek to assure my child of their worth in my eyes and God’s and to help them understand why people hurt people and how we might break the cycle with blessing and prayer. O, Lifter of my head, do you not also like a father cheer me on, raise me up, defend me, and train me through trials?
When I see one of my children reading their Bible or a devotional while they eat their breakfast or I discover their Bible on their nightstand, I breathe silent but exuberant prayers of thankfulness that they seem to be reading the signs we have planted beside the life road. They are following the bread crumbs Donna and I have left to the path of wise choices. Do I ever consider what my Bible reading and study mean to the Author of this sublime love letter?
When they come into the room, I want to rush on them and hug them. In fact, I often do, even though I know my displays of affection sometimes embarrass them a bit. When they get near me, I want to touch them, stroke or mess with their hair, tickle them, or pat them on the back. When they sit next to me, my arms instinctively go around their shoulders. Is God not very much like the father of the prodigal in Luke 15, a dad who strains his eyes daily for the first hint of his wayward son’s return at which he runs – yes! God runs! – and falls upon him with hugs and kisses and party pronouncements? Does Father not yearn to touch us?
Admittedly, I cannot honestly suppose that every parent feels precisely what I feel. I am surely anything but exemplary, and I definitely fail frequently as a father. Moreover, I do not intend to compare my paternal practices to God’s Fatherhood. My point is that I often catch the most profound insights into God’s heart when I least expect them, when my own heart is seized and squeezed by one or more of our tribe of five. If ever I write any books, one will surely be How My Kids Raised a Godly Dad.
My children tell their mom and dad “I love you” in a thousand different ways every day, most of them without ever speaking directly to us. Be assured, however, we are certainly watching and listening. Donna and I are vigilant, eager to champion our children, to prod and promote and provoke them on to higher planes and vistas, and to lavish our love upon them. We delight in our kids.
In a similar way, but surely a way much more dignified by divinity, God delights in us. I believe God is waiting – watching and listening to His children. He longs for every son of Adam and daughter of Eve to know how very much He loves them and to dream the dreams He has for each one. For every joint-heir with Christ, for each of His redeemed prodigals, Father watches and seizes every opportunity not only to direct our feet to the homeward path, but to bring home along with us as many siblings as we can.
What does Father feel when He watches you and me? Do we ever give Him cause to grin and giggle and laugh out loud?
Merry Christmas, beloved!
To the ends of the earth until the end of time!
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