One Reason I'm Thankful

The Lord has this habit I don't quite understand: He likes to teach me things when one of my children are reeling from pain in my arms. I guess he really does like to identify with a crying baby.

So there I was, in the middle of an hour with Lydia while she thrashed in some sort of tummy ache. She had just nursed, so it wasn't hunger. Gas drops hadn't worked, so it was time to just sit there and hold her while she cried.

Something about that crying empties my mind, perhaps clearing the way for me to listen to God. Then came a reminder of something he showed me while I was holding a crying baby Josiah two years earlier: all around the world, there are babies in as much pain as Lydia was then, who have no father to hold them.

I expect God's lessons to consist of more facts, greater knowledge. But instead it was just a simple, "you should care more about this."

So we sat for a while, with tears in both of our eyes, until Sarah (four years old) awoke from her nap.

In Sarah's typical form, we then had to try every remedy again. Sarah had even thought of a few I hadn't remembered. But again nothing worked, so we both sat there with her while she cried.

I hadn't planned on saying anything, but my heart was so sad that I couldn't help but teach Sarah about it.

"Sarah, did you know that some babies don't have a mommy or daddy to hold them when they cry?"

Sarah solved that one quickly: "oh, so another adult holds them, then."

I realized what I as about to say would probably change the way she looked at the world, and it actually felt like a bad idea. But something in me felt she was ready to hear it. "Yes, sometimes another adult comes to hold them, but some babies don't have anyone."

That made her pause for a small instant.

But it was no more than an instant until she taught me another lesson. "Daddy," she said, "I want to learn how to take care of babies, so that one day if a baby doesn't have a mommy or daddy, I could be it's mommy!"

The excitement on her face only added to the power of her sweet voice. She had just learned that orphans exist, and already she wanted so spend her life taking care of them. That will teach Daddy a lesson!

I could only think of one thing to say, but now it feels like just the right thing. "I think that would make God very happy."

Since then, she has paid attention to the way we take care of Lydia, and asked to do almost all of it herself. She was already doing that to a degree, but seems to have an intentionality about it now. And she's declared her intentions, with the same words, to both Emily and me on separate occasions. She won't forget it, and seems to mean it.

It would be foolish for me to plot out her course when she's four years old: I don't know what the Lord might do with her, or if He will even call her to faith. And I can't hold her for her whole life to the same noble ambition she has today. But to get a glimpse for an instant of my little girl caring for the poor- that renews my vigor to raise all three of them to fear and love Jesus.

What if God allows us to raise three healthy adults who truly care for the poor? That makes every spanking, sleepless night, tear, and backache worth it.

So this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for the lessons God continues to teach us. He is a good father, with much wisdom to give. He gives encouragement when we need it. And he gives us the sweetness of children to remind us of it.

Happy Thanksgiving to you.

Whoever is wise, let him attend to these things;
let them consider the steadfast love of the Lord.
Psalm 107:13