Crutches

Mark took Levi and Violet down to the creek today to toss rocks off the bridge. This, of course, is one of their favorite activities... like most children. As he told it, Levi had smuggled a pacifier, "paci" - affectionately, down to the bridge. He is supposed to be being weaned from paci. As he was enthusiastically throwing rocks over the bridge, he opened his mouth to exclaim, and, like something from Aesop's Fables, paci tumbled out, bounced once off the bridge railing, and fell, plop, into the creek below. Levi, with furrowed brow, looked forlornly down into the water and said, "I lost paci! Now, what am I going to do?" Now, one could successfully argue that if a child can utter such sophisticated monologue, he should scarcely need a paci. However, I think that Levi would be inclined to disagree, and might, quite maturely, make a decent case.

When Mark came home to tell me the story, I said, "Oh, no. That was our last spare."

To which he replied, "Well, maybe tonight is a good night for him to say goodbye to paci."

I had to agree, although I was still contemplating a quick trip into town for a new one.

I think about how strange it is that we learn to depend on crutches from a very early age. We lean on things - sometimes encouraged by our parents - to fill an emotional or physical void. Even if parents are the ones who try to fill our voids as children, they are still inadequate. They still fall short. I struggle with my voids. I try to fill them with hobbies or time wasters. I try to fill my stomach with sweets and other things I know aren't good for me. I try to fill my ears with noise and my eyes with stimuli.

I was thinking about my thoughts today - how redundant. I noticed that I think a lot more thoughts about God than I think toward Him. I imagine He would tend to prefer the latter... just like I would. It's nice for my husband to think about me, but I don't know he is unless he's thinking toward me. If he tells me what he's thinking toward me, or if he expresses it in actions that benefit me, then we have made a connection that is impossible when he merely thinks about me. More often than not I let my thoughts direct me. Today I am prompted to be more purposeful to direct my thoughts, instead of letting them direct me, and to make them known - not just in words on a blog or even in a prayer, but in my actions. God thinks about me, no doubt... and has been since the beginning of time. (Zeph. 3:17, Zech. 2:8, Jer. 29:11, Col. 3:12) But more importantly, His thoughts have been directed toward me for my good. Sometimes we find this hard to believe.

We mistrust God because we are unsure of our worth to Him. We think that we are merely tolerated by Him... that since our failure is so great that we couldn't be worth the rejoicing He claims to do over us. We are unsure of His goodness. So we may tend to think that when difficulties come our way we are being punished or at least neglected by God. The contrary is always true. His thoughts have always been directed toward us... for our good. If I tell my son tomorrow that he has to continue to go out and work in a garden that is scarcely producing any fruit, he is frustrated - maybe even angry - with me. But I carry a burden called: The Big Picture. I can see that he is learning to stick with something he started - to persevere in bleak circumstances. I can see that he is learning good work ethic - to finish a project started. I can also see that this will make him a better employee someday... more marketable... more competitive... stronger.

God also carries the same burden, but on a much grander scale. Our trials and sufferings aren't the result of a forgetful or vengeful God. They are part of our growing process... a tiny portion of The Big Picture. Salvation wasn't a contingency plan for a bunch of cosmic failures. It was a way to sacrifice Himself for His greatest love - people who were lost. The greatest love stories are ones of great sacrifice. He made us the object of the greatest love story every told.

Jesse Ventura once said that "religion is just a crutch for the weak". He's right.