Archive for July, 2015

Rocks & Robots
July 14, 2015

“You parents—if your children ask for a loaf of bread, do you give them a stone instead?
Or if they ask for a fish, do you give them a snake? Of course not! So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him.”
Mathew 7:9-11

Last night a storm raged wild in our little Midwestern neighborhoods. It shook down trees with wind and cracked bright as shooting stars from zags of lightening. The thunder was what got our hearts jumping, it was just so loud! And at midnight, my best friend’s little girl woke up howling louder than the gusts that scared her eyes wide open.

My best friend bounded to the top of the stairs and scooped her babe up.  We quietly crept into the guest room and tucked under a quilt, snuggling that little sweetheart between us as her mama rubbed her back until she fell asleep. Comforted. Safe. No storm stronger than the heart that held her.

We talked quietly over her perfectly peaceful face for another hour, she wiggled and rumbled in her sleepy state, and the preciousness of the moment washed over me as rain continued to pour down the window panes.

Love exists because God decided that it should.

And in that late night moment of tender care, the enormity of my best friend’s love for her daughter was tangible. It was another layer of love in just a single day where she’d dressed her, read to her, fed her, giggled with her, wiped her tears, cheered her on for using the potty, and chose to love her big brother and their daddy all-the-day-long too.

People aren’t bigger than God. Not stronger or wiser or more selfless. But I’ll bank on their love time and again, because I can see it. Feel it. Witness it. Get my arms around it or get their arms around me.
I know for a fact that if any of my pals little ones were hungry, they wouldn’t serve them a saucer of gravel or a plate of pebbles. No, they’d do exactly what those words in Matthew tell us- they’d feed them with bread.  Because love is ‘taking care’ … it’s providing. For needs.

And God takes care of my needs. He has fed me. Clothed me. Put a roof over my head.
And somehow I still feel fearful that when I sit down to dine with my Dad that he’s going to turn his face from me and push a pile of rocks my way.
I feel that way because of the way He hasn’t ‘answered’ … not for my needs, but my wants.