So that's what love looks like: for Derek
If the church is supposed to work under many of the same relational dynamics as those of the family (I Timothy 5:1,2 would be an obvious example of the biblical imperative), perhaps part of the breakdown in the relational dynamics of our churches - and our lives as Christians - stems from the breakdown of family relational dynamics around us.
I mean, if you're supposed to intreat an elder as a father, what happens when your father wasn't there? Or he was there, but he belittled you? Or abused you? What if my mother put her desires ahead of her children, and then I become a follower of Christ, and God tells me to intreat older women in the church as mothers?
When some people read that God loves them as a Father, or that they have a Friend that sticks closer than a brother, well...
It helps explain a lot, come to think of it.
And that makes it all the more precious when you get to see, in real life, an example of what the love of family can be. And how it can be a glimpse into what our relationship with God in Christ, and with our spiritual family, can be like.
I thought of all this in the shower.
It was late morning, and the kids and I had shooed Kristy/Mama out of the house to go do scrapbookish stuff or something. We had watched Pooh's Heffalump Movie for the second time that morning.
(Side note: one of the best movie lines of all times comes in this movie. Rabbit tells Roo that he can't go on the heffalump hunting expedition because the whole mission is fraught with danger. After Roo says he can handle it, Tigger reaches down and says, "You just can't argue with a word like 'fraught'." Classic.)
Anyway, my day officially starts when I've showered, dressed, and had breakfast. I've been known to turn down tacos at half past noon, in favor of donuts, because I haven't had breakfast yet. So I sneak away from where Trey, Gracie, Derek and I were watching the movie, thinking I could shower, get dressed, and be around before the movie ended. Bad things of every variety happen when the kids realize that the only parent in the house is indisposed.
As I'm shaving, I hear rumbling along the ground, and I realize that Derek has lost interest in Poohs and heffalumps and is scooting through the house, looking for me. See, it's a known fact that Derek is my boy, not just in the genetic sense of the term, but in the I-don't-want-you-'cause-you're-not-my-dad sense of the term.
So I hear him rumbling toward the bathroom door, and I think to myself, Okay, now if I can get into the shower and turn it on before he gets to the door, he'll realize I'm indisposed and the ensuing kitchen carnage will be light because I'll have taken a quick shower. I thought this, and tried to pull it off, but as I stepped into the shower, I heard the door slam open, and I could hear Derek mentally analyzing the situation. Then he started crying as he realized that I was carrying on a however miniscule part of my life without him.
So, me being the brilliant tactician, I decided to act as if I had heard nothing, and start my shower.
I had a head full of shampoo when I suddenly heard the shower curtain rip back. There was Derek, who now feels better because he knows where I am, but was not expecting water to be part of the equation. This'll work out, I thought. He'll be terrified of the shower water, close the curtain, and that'll be that.
But he didn't. He couldn't even see me, because every time he looked up, his eyes would get pelted with water. It didn't matter: he just stood there, not even crying, just recoiling and gasping a little every time he'd get water in his eyes. His head was soaked, his sweatshirt was soaked, and he just stood there. The whole time it took me to get my shower done, he just stood there.
Because he knew that was where I was.
I turned off the water, dried and dressed, and took Derek to change his sweatshirt (somehow, his pants were completely dry). The whole time, he just looked at me with this light in his eyes, and smiled. And I just looked back at him, and smiled, and thought to myself:
God, I just want to be where you are. I'll do whatever it takes - just let me be where you are.
As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.
My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?
- The Bible, Psalm 42:1,2
I mean, if you're supposed to intreat an elder as a father, what happens when your father wasn't there? Or he was there, but he belittled you? Or abused you? What if my mother put her desires ahead of her children, and then I become a follower of Christ, and God tells me to intreat older women in the church as mothers?
When some people read that God loves them as a Father, or that they have a Friend that sticks closer than a brother, well...
It helps explain a lot, come to think of it.
And that makes it all the more precious when you get to see, in real life, an example of what the love of family can be. And how it can be a glimpse into what our relationship with God in Christ, and with our spiritual family, can be like.
I thought of all this in the shower.
It was late morning, and the kids and I had shooed Kristy/Mama out of the house to go do scrapbookish stuff or something. We had watched Pooh's Heffalump Movie for the second time that morning.
(Side note: one of the best movie lines of all times comes in this movie. Rabbit tells Roo that he can't go on the heffalump hunting expedition because the whole mission is fraught with danger. After Roo says he can handle it, Tigger reaches down and says, "You just can't argue with a word like 'fraught'." Classic.)
Anyway, my day officially starts when I've showered, dressed, and had breakfast. I've been known to turn down tacos at half past noon, in favor of donuts, because I haven't had breakfast yet. So I sneak away from where Trey, Gracie, Derek and I were watching the movie, thinking I could shower, get dressed, and be around before the movie ended. Bad things of every variety happen when the kids realize that the only parent in the house is indisposed.
As I'm shaving, I hear rumbling along the ground, and I realize that Derek has lost interest in Poohs and heffalumps and is scooting through the house, looking for me. See, it's a known fact that Derek is my boy, not just in the genetic sense of the term, but in the I-don't-want-you-'cause-you're-not-my-dad sense of the term.
So I hear him rumbling toward the bathroom door, and I think to myself, Okay, now if I can get into the shower and turn it on before he gets to the door, he'll realize I'm indisposed and the ensuing kitchen carnage will be light because I'll have taken a quick shower. I thought this, and tried to pull it off, but as I stepped into the shower, I heard the door slam open, and I could hear Derek mentally analyzing the situation. Then he started crying as he realized that I was carrying on a however miniscule part of my life without him.
So, me being the brilliant tactician, I decided to act as if I had heard nothing, and start my shower.
I had a head full of shampoo when I suddenly heard the shower curtain rip back. There was Derek, who now feels better because he knows where I am, but was not expecting water to be part of the equation. This'll work out, I thought. He'll be terrified of the shower water, close the curtain, and that'll be that.
But he didn't. He couldn't even see me, because every time he looked up, his eyes would get pelted with water. It didn't matter: he just stood there, not even crying, just recoiling and gasping a little every time he'd get water in his eyes. His head was soaked, his sweatshirt was soaked, and he just stood there. The whole time it took me to get my shower done, he just stood there.
Because he knew that was where I was.
I turned off the water, dried and dressed, and took Derek to change his sweatshirt (somehow, his pants were completely dry). The whole time, he just looked at me with this light in his eyes, and smiled. And I just looked back at him, and smiled, and thought to myself:
God, I just want to be where you are. I'll do whatever it takes - just let me be where you are.
As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.
My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?
- The Bible, Psalm 42:1,2
posted by pastor mike at 4:40 PM
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