Why God Makes Parents Laugh and Cry
Bright and early this morning my husband, trying to help me stick to my goal of getting up early, rubbed my shoulder and gave a little shake, "C'mon Sus...it's time." "Ok," my mind said. "No way," my body grouched. The promise of coffee alongside my mind, already doing it's chatty thing, won out by tempting, sweet talking, and finally yelling- "Hey girl, move that body!" I rolled out of bed and discovered the reason I was supposed to rise before the crack of dawn.
Let me skip the stumbling around to the bathroom and sipping my coffee bits and get right to the sweatpants, messy hair part of being comfy on the couch and closing my eyes, this time for the purpose of saying, "Hi God, good morning."
Instantly, there was this...feeling...hard to describe, kind of wavy, drawing me in. Anyway, I started my internal chat, "Good morning, God, please come into my day." Then and there HE did. For real. Kinda just standing a bit further from where I stood in my mind. I RAN to hug Him- wanting to jump into His arms and feel His robes flow around me. Suddenly, I had a flash of when my own kids were little. Their eyes, opened wide while a
toothy grin stetched around the calling of my name. Their little faces were pure joy and excitement as they plowed toward me, jumping up to squeeze my neck, whether I was ready or not. I felt the memory of intense emotion as I threw my arms wide and excitedly braced myself for the "oof" moment when they flung themselves at me. And then He spoke.
God said, "This is how I feel when you come to Me." He continued, "I purposely planted this seed of reaction in parents so you could feel what I do when you run to Me." My heart grasped this truth as pictures of my children leaping toward me rolled through my mind.
Then I saw my kids as teenagers. "Well, what about that?" I asked, pointing to my daughter- sullen face, arms crossed, radiating disdain, definitely not running toward me. My heart dropped quickly, immediately feeling the distance between my
daughter and I. I tasted that familiar bitter sense of being sad and frustrated. I longed for her and the way she used to rush for my knees after I'd return home, having just gone to the store.
"Yep," God commiserated, "That is how I feel when My children hit that phase, too." Images of my own self at that age cropped up quickly one after another. There I was, wanting to do my own thing, angry, confused, self-centered, distracted, chasing after boys, cars, and approval of those that I thought made up my world. "Oh God," I thought, "I'm really sorry." "It's ok," God comforted, "I just wanted you to know you are made in My image. I made your heart like a mirror of my own. I designed it this way. As a parent, you will experience the sorrow of distance your kids choose- it feels like a fracture, doesn't it?" I hung my head, feeling sad but not guilty, just aware of the insight filtering in. He reassured with a squeeze, "Hey, you're ok, I just love you and wanted you to know I want to be with you."
"I get it, Father, but I'm an adult now and I follow You because I've grown and learned so much on the way." I paused for a minute, "So what about them?" I asked, pointing to a hazy
image of middle aged men and women, kind of huddled together, about five feet away. God then allowed me a sense of time passing swiftly with an image of my beloved Grandma on her deathbed. "Well," He said, "That's up to you. It is your choice now. The reason you can't sense My emotions right now is because that step will come later. It will come after your leap into the great unknown and you will not have to wonder. You will see My face. We will experience those feelings together...either sorrow at parting or the immense joy of running to each other, never to part again."
I slowly nodded into His embrace as that vivid wavy feeling began to fade. Then he leaned over before releasing me to my day and whispered a reminder, "Truly I say to you, unless you turn and become like little children you will never enter into the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3)