Questions from a child
I could tell my sweet 10 year old who holds much in his heart and mind, has something to ask me.
With my husband away the days and nights run into each other. Four hearts and personalities to attend to and love. Tiredness is hitting, but I know this is one of those moments when I need to be present. I confess I'm not always so. Bedtime routines sometimes are just that, routines so I can move on to the unfinished tasks for my day. The lesson the Lord continues to teach me is that He is in these moments, I only need to pay attention to them.
Mommy, I want to be faithful. I want to trust God. But sometimes I just want to ask, why did He allow all these things to happen to us?
His little heart wonders, too.
He's brave enough tonight to ask.
What do you think? I turn the question back to him because I do that, I'm always teaching and because my kids stay at home and do school with their mother they never get away from the questions.
So that I can grow in my relationship with Him?
I frown. Is this what he thinks? That God would allow these things and somehow in the throes of the chaos invite us into deeper relationship with Him? I'm not sure I agree.
He loves us. I begin. I want this to be our starting place. I want my son to know that no matter what happens and whatever sucky stuff (as my 17 year old put it today) comes, that God loves us. He isn't God faraway allowing bad things to happen to His children and hope that they come closer to Him through these things. I try to explain.
Explaining suffering is so difficult.
Jeremiah's lament and sorrow in Lamentations 3 challenge me tonight. The suffering is real and it hurts. But somehow Jeremiah finds it in him to hope in the midst of the grief. Though this Advent and Christmas season has not turned out the way I thought. Though it feels like we're stuck in Asia while my husband is suffering from excruciating back and leg pain in our home country, and my mother in law is suffering from cancer, and my kids are looking at me for answers and I have none.
Honestly, it feels like we can't take anymore. The burden so heavy and the tears so many. I tell my daughter today over a tea-date as she cries over Grandma that maybe that we won't get to see her again on this side of Heaven, I tell her that God collects these tears and I'm sure that I have many bottles in heaven in His safekeeping. I tell her that I wish I could see through the fog but I can't. I wish I knew what to do but I don't. I'm not sure what model of parenting this is, other than honest.
My little guy (who will always be my little guy because he just happens to be my youngest, poor thing) wrestles with hard questions that he probably will continue to wrestle with his whole life. My prayer for him is that in all the chaos and pain of life that his heart stands sure that he is loved by the Lord. That he knows that God is with us and hasn't left us. That he remembers that one day all the evil and sadness will go away. Satan will be defeated forever and all the tears will end.
My son smiles and grabs my hand. Thanks, Mom.
His mother has no answers for him that make any sense but thanks still come out.
A ten year old content to sit in the mystery and maybe be okay with the journey, for now.
19 The thought of my suffering and homelessness