So, I’m quick to say that I trust God with my kids. But, lately, I’ve been wondering what that really looks like and if I’m actually willing to go so far as to say, “Not my will,” where they’re concerned.
A few nights ago at the dinner table, Luke followed up on a topic he’s been really obsessed with lately. I’ve been answering questions for a while as to when Jesus will call him to Heaven. I tell him that I don’t know, but not until it’s just the right time. He’s typically fine with that answer and it ends that conversation for a while. But the other night, he was very specific. It went something like this: “Jesus will take me, but you guys will all stay here. But it’s okay – Jesus will stay with me.” He said it twice to make sure we understood, and then, very matter-of-factly, he said, “Mom, are there going to be playgrounds there?” I assured him there were and he had a big smile on his face.
Now, it is easy to say that he’s just beginning to think, that all kids do that. I know that would be correct. But, imagine if it were your kid. What if your kid had very sweetly assured you that he would be okay when he left you because Jesus would be with him? Later that night, when all the house was asleep, I couldn’t help but cry a little about it. (I’m crying now.) It was then that it hit me — Do I really trust that Jesus has the absolute best interest in mind for me, my family, the world? Would I trust Him with my son if that were the course my life would take? I was quick to remind God that if he took my son to Heaven that I desperately wanted to go with him. But I know that life doesn’t always work out like that. Sometimes horrible tragedies do happen.
I’ve been reminded by friends who know firsthand what it’s like to lose a child that God does not deal in the currency of fear. So, I ask myself — What is the key that takes away fear in light of the erratic behavior of the unknown? And I have to come back to trust. IF I truly believe that God is good, that He loves me, and desires to finish the good work He began in me, then there can be a sense of confidence in looking toward the future. It’s as if trust and fear are engaged in a gigantic arm-wrestling match – the one that’s controlling me is the one that’s stronger at the moment.
It’s amazing that just reminding myself of the nature and tender care of God allowed me to slip into dreamless sleep that night. It’s probably just a fluke. But you will find me taking lots of time for snuggles with one messy-haired boy child.
“I am sure that nothing can separate us from God’s love–not life or death, not angels or spirits, not the present or the future. . .”
Romans 8:38
