Sitting next to my little girl at the lunch table today, I saw (on more than one occasion) her pleasant no-cares facial expression turn to a slight frown and then suddenly to a full-out bawl-her-eyes-out cry.
It's something I have seen before. As a matter of fact, it's an almost daily occurence.
Something had hurt her, injured her, offended her.
Just like every other time, I put her tear-streaked little face in my hands, let her know that she has my undivided attention, and I ask, "What happened to mommy's baby?"
And just like every other time, she tells me - between her sobs - exactly what had happened. Today, it was:
"Table 'n' Kneeeeee!" - The table hit my knee
"Chip 'n' mouuuuuth" - The chip hurt my mouth or (more likely) I bit my tongue.
"Lemon 'n' haaaaaand!" - The lemon burned the cut on my hand.
And each time, after she tells me all about what's wrong, I put my arms around her and hold her head against my chest. I say, "Shhh, I know it hurts, but Mommy will make it all better." Then I kiss whatever area has been injured and, finally, turn my attention to the culprit.
"NO! NO! Table! You get a spankin' 'cause you hurt my Chloe." Then the table gets a spanking.
She especially finds delight in this last action, and usually joins me in teaching the guilty party a lesson. It doesn't take long for her to completely forget about her injury and continue on with her previous conversation or activity.
But it's not always that easy, is it?
Sometimes the people we love are hurt in ways that we cannot fix.
We can't always kiss the boo boo and make it go away. We usually can't punish the person or situation which is causing the pain.
We feel helpless. Sometimes, in our own effort, we are helpless.
Today is one of those days for me. I don't have answers. I don't have solutions. I don't have magical healing powers. I can't erase what has been done. I can't fix it.
So I pray. I pray that Daddy God will take their face in His hands, so that they know they have His undivided attention. I pray that they can pour out their hearts to the One who asks, "What happened to my little one?" I pray that, even now, His loving touch begins to bring healing and restoration.
Then I pray that He kicks the Devil in the teeth! Because this battle ain't against flesh and blood, ya'll.
But above all, I pray that they can see that He understands, that He is intimately acquainted with pain... with suffering... with injustice. And He is working on their behalf. He's not sitting idly by, waiting for someone down here to do something. He is petitioning at the Throne. He knows their pain, and He's all about the business of restoration.
It's obvious, of course, that he didn't go to all this trouble for angels. It was for people like us, children of Abraham. That's why he had to enter into every detail of human life. Then, when he came before God as high priest to get rid of the people's sins, he would have already experienced it all himself—all the pain, all the testing—and would be able to help where help was needed....
Now that we know what we have—Jesus, this great High Priest with ready access to God—let's not let it slip through our fingers. We don't have a priest who is out of touch with our reality. He's been through weakness and testing, experienced it all—all but the sin. So let's walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help.
Hebrews 2:16-18, 4:14-16 (The Message)