As the Women’s Director at my church, there are seasons of
calm, but also seasons of busyness. I am currently in a season of busy, which
sometimes, as in this case, can turn into a few days of stress. When stressed
out, I tend to clean because while I might not be able to control the
situation, I can control the dishes. I can at least move them from the hot
soapy water of the sink into the dishwasher and then turn it on. I can sweep
and mop and turn the kitchen into a sparkly, shiny area, while my stressed out
situation is not so sparkly and shiny.
The other day, I was in “cleaning mode” and had told my 3 ½
year old son, Wesley, that he could go outside onto the patio to wait for his
grilled cheese sandwich. I left the kitchen sliding glass door open to the
patio, so I could keep a faint eye on him and also hear him if he called me.
While waiting for his grilled cheese to bake in the oven, I was vigorously
scrubbing the dried pizza and crusty pasta off our plates in the sink from the
night before. My thoughts were running wildy about a new discipleship/mentor program a friend of mine and I were implementing at our church... “What if I don’t have enough
mentors for this new program? What if I have to turn these young, lovely,
ladies away? I really felt like the Lord had confirmed me all along the way
with beginning this new mentor ministry…what if I was wrong? What if everything
is going to tank? What if this was the wrong thing to do? What if I look like a
complete fool in front of everyone at church???”
Then I remember Wes’s sandwich in the oven, and of course,
it is completely black on one side. I take it out and as all good moms do, I
get out a knife and start scraping all of the burned side off into the sink. So
now I’m mad that I have all these microscopic crumbs of burnt bread layering my
sink and faucet so that I will now be cleaning it all over again, scrubbing
those dang crunchy crispy crumbs off my sink. Then as I turn back to the
grilled cheese that is now officially a “fixer upper” I begin to beat myself up
with new negative thoughts (as if the stressed out ones weren’t enough) like,
“Ugh, what kind of a mom can’t even get a grilled cheese right? Seriously? It’s
a dumb grilled cheese sandwich! Dang!”
As I’m taking Wes’s wilted, sad, sandwich out onto the
porch, I come to about 5 feet from the open sliding door and all I can see is
Wes’s profile and he is very, very still…he’s gazing intently up into the sky totally
hushed. He doesn’t see that I’m walking
towards him. Just a few seconds later as I watch him, I see and hear him shout
out to the sky, “I LOVE YOU GOD!”
I could barely hold back the tears. Yes, Wes, you get it
buddy. You really get it.
The kingdom belongs to such as these and this small, simple
phrase reminds me why. Sweet Wes. Waiting for his lunch. Taking time from his
day to look up at the sky just to say, “I LOVE YOU GOD!”
Thank you for your impeccable timing, Lord. That is exactly
what I needed to see and hear. No matter what my thoughts are God, no matter
how stressed I am, no matter if I fail or if I succeed... Please know, Lord,
that I love you. I love you for being God. I love you for coming to Earth. I
love you for dying for me. I love you for being my Savior. I love you for
speaking to me. I love you for giving me Wes through very difficult
circumstances. I love you for his innocence. I love you for using a 3 ½ year
old to take me out of my frazzled mess to remind me of your sweet, yet oh so
powerful love. Dear Lord, please hear from Wes's and my heart tonight, “WE LOVE
YOU GOD!”
Comments
Post a Comment