Objet d' art |
“Do you like it mummy?” she asked, twirling around the room, blonde curls bouncing in every direction.
“Absolutely,” I replied, bending down to kiss her little head.
“It’s very special and I made it just for you.” She smiled at me conspiratorially, as if she had at last fulfilled an unmet desire. Hopping sideways and grabbing her foot, she continued “You don’t have to share it.”
“You are very thoughtful and I will not share it at all. I will hide it in here and keep it all to myself.” She giggled at my new found selfishness and hopped out of the room, misjudging the corner and bouncing off the door. Her head missed the doorjamb by an inch and I winced reflexively. Examining the treasure in my hands I was aware of two things. One: I had no idea what this thing was and two: I loved it. I thought some more. Nope. No closer to enlightenment. Sitting with my objet d’art, I thanked the Lord for my creative little creature.
She showed her love of junk at an early age. While other children played with dolls,
my daughter would build imaginary worlds out of tin foil and thread. Civilizations created out of paper drew water out of bottle cap wells that reached into the
earth's core. Rocks were
mined with precision and lint cattle were corralled in yogurt containers that
doubled sailing vessels. When she
was old enough to wield a glue gun there was no world that child could not
conquer. Childhood magic runs deep in
her heart.
But while I wasn’t looking, something happened. This child, master of rubbish and rubble
started to create. She acquired skill
and resources, talent and treasures and I stand amazed. What was little, fat and adorable became
refined and beautiful. I sit. I wonder. I cry. It happened without my doing.
As September rushes to embrace us, many parents are thinking
about their once little people. It is
hard to accept they have grown. We look
at their faces and see shades of chubby cheeks and runny noses. We recall their tantrums and triumphs,
we wonder how they will do without us. Behind
the nostalgia lurks an anxiety, what about their brokenness? Where will it take them?
We are told that the God sees us hidden in Christ. No
amount of self-cleansing or atonement will make us acceptable to the Father, it
is a gift bestowed to us by faith in Jesus the Messiah. Yet as parents, faith in Jesus can dim when
we look at our families. This month is a
trial for many who are launching their children. It takes faith to let them go. Their sin looms large in our minds and causes
fear to rise. Fear speaks loudly and
drowns out the voice of the Father. If
your heart is aching for your child and your nerves are raw at the thought of
launching them might I take a moment to speak to your heart?
Dearest Parent, what a job you have done with your
child. What success and trials you have
known. Did you ever believe you would
make it this far? I pray you would
come to know God will continue to watch over your
child. That you would find peace knowing He loves your babe more than you do.
His plans for them are for good and growth. He is not surprised by their weakness, He
purposes to use it for their good and His glory. I pray that Jesus would speak peace and joy
to your heart as you learn anew to pray for your child. That they would rise up and exceed your
expectations and bring you joy. May
peace rest on your sore heart during this season.
Summer has flown too quickly and I was thinking of
how my children have grown. In truth, I
can’t spend much time on such thoughts without tears. Dear Friend stand with me, be strong and have faith. There are good times
ahead. Your child will launch and there
will be good fruit. Beautiful things are
yet to be created. Though parts of their heart are ugly and without form, God makes all things beautiful in His time. I pray that we will
have the faith to stand strong while sad, to sing loudly in the dark and await
what the future holds.
I’m praying for you this week,