War of the Wills

Psalm 51:17, "A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise."

Today my son and I had a war of the wills.

I had to stand my ground; if I failed, we would both lose. It was not about the task at hand; it was about his soul.

When Timothy was in the hospital, it saddened me to see the loss of fight that slowly enveloped his being. While there, he learned that he was helpless to defend himself against anything that was planned or perpetrated against him.

But now that he is home and recovered, something new, deep, strong, and even more grievous has taken root in his little heart: resistance. Somehow he remembers all that he was unable to prevent and is determined not to let it happen again.

His error is that he cannot discern between wise and foolish oppositon. He sees me as the enemy when in fact I am his benefactor. He does not want to hurt now; I do not want him to hurt later. I love him far too much to let any root of rebellion take hold of his spirit.

Today all I wanted to do was forget about the command he refused to obey, scoop him up in my arms, and wipe away his tears. But this would have rewarded his unwise defiance and sowed the beginnings of apostasy. No, I drew the battle lines and won. Toward the end I shed my own tears. But what a sweetness of fellowship we had the moment he chose to submit to my loving authority.

Timothy, there will be a time when you do need to rebel. May it be against those who malign your God. But never make the choice to turn against Him. Your resistance will only create distance. He is much more patient than I; He will wait as long as it takes for your spirit to be broken.

2 Timothy 2:13, "If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself."

The Father's Love

1 Corinthians 13:2, "If I... have not love, I am nothing."

I spent all afternoon on the rocking chair in Timothy's room. His naptime sleep had been fitful and restless until my weary husband set him on my lap. As I lay his head on my heart, his anxious body slowly began to settle. He smelled like formula and vomit, and his face was caked in mucus and saliva, but for us it was the sweetest seat in the house. I knew that in his sleep, my little boy was free from pain. And he, after days of resistance, had finally found peace, safety, and rest in his mother's arms.

All of the "urgent" matters that just days ago seemed so important have been completely swept aside. Difficulties have an amazing way of separating the temporal from the eternal. Psalm 73:25, "Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you." The world vies for our affections in every way and promises fulfillment apart from Christ, but in the words of Solomon, all is vanity and chasing after wind. Only in Him will we satisfy our heart's deepest yearning. Psalm 16:11, "In Your presence is fullness of joy; In Your right hand there are pleasures forever."

Last night I listened to the testimony of a man who had won millions in the lottery. His "good fortune" had led to the loss of his wife and children. With tears in his eyes he exclaimed, "I had all this money but I didn't have my family." What he really meant was that if he had not love, he had nothing.

One day Timothy will be too big to sit on my lap. Of course, by then he probably would not find the same kind of comfort there anyway. When that day comes, I pray that he would have the wisdom to exchange my rocking chair for his Heavenly Father's throne, sit on His infinite lap, and find healing, peace, and rest in Him. His arms are much greater than mine and His love endures forever.

A Greater Good

Proverbs 3:5, "Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding."

Timothy no longer trusts me.

It's no wonder; all week long his Daddy and I have been consenters, agents, and originators of his agony. We have muscled down his thrashing limbs for shots and IVs; constrained his quivering head for bloody exams; driven him to hellish, windowless buildings full of uniformed strangers wielding knives and needles; and abandoned him, terrified, behind closed doors only to wake up alone with fresh wounds. In his tiny 2-year-old mind, he cannot comprehend that any pain could be for a greater good. All he knows is that he has suffered and we have done nothing to stop it.

The hours we have spent comforting, consoling, and staying alongside him do not matter. The damage has been done. His confidence is lost.

Time, consistency, and relief will not build back his faith in us. No; the only way trust can truly be restored is if he chooses it in spite of the pain. He will have to do this in the absence of any logical explanation; for, even if it were given, he would not be able to comprehend it. Instead, he must place his faith in us, not because it makes sense, but because he believes that we love him and want what is best for him. This is a critical test for his little soul; for if he finds the strength to turn his heart toward his earthly Mommy and Daddy, he will take the first step toward eternal trust in a Heavenly Father who also allows pain without explanation for our greater good.

Timothy, I know you cannot understand why you have had to endure this hardship, but you must choose to trust anyway. Somehow, you must believe that the pain you have suffered came from a decision we made out of our deepest love for you. If you decide to believe in our goodness, I promise you will find rest for your soul. Trust in us, so that one day you will understand what it means to trust in God. His love is infinitely more deep, pure, and perfect than ours.

We love you.

A Broken Spirit

Dear Timothy,

For some reason God has chosen to acquaint you with suffering at a very tender age. This past week I witnessed the death of childhood innocence and naivete in your little soul. You now know what most of us do not learn until much, much later: life is difficult. Yes, there are joys, but as long as we are in this flesh, we will also experience pain. You understand this now; your spirit has been broken.

All this week, I held you, kept you warm, listened, prayed, and wept with you. Even for the hours and hours that I stayed by your side and wiped away your blood and tears, I could not wipe away your pain. This is for you to suffer alone, until you are freed from your earthly body and come face to face with the only One who can wash away every tear from your eyes for all eternity. If you choose Him, there will be no more crying, or pain; you will have a new body, perfect, unblemished, free from the curse of sin.

Timothy, as you grow to understand more about Christ, you must choose to let your brokenness drive you toward Him and not away. The temptation will be to blame Him and turn your back, but this will bring you nothing but more pain and bitterness. Instead, give your humble heart to Him, and He will strengthen you to endure, as He has strengthened your Daddy and me time and time again. He is faithful and compassionate, and though He sometimes chooses to allow pain, He stays alongside us in the midst of it as One who has also shed blood and tears. Trust Him even when it defies all understanding, and you will bring honor to Him, peace to your soul, and gain life for eternity.

Timothy, I love you as your mother, and I have and will do all I can to comfort you in your affliction. But now we both know that I, too, am weak and broken, and cannot take it for you or away from you. Instead, follow my example: continually place yourself in God's loving arms and wait patiently for His timing. For it only is a matter of time, Timothy, before your suffering will be ended. I pray that you will persevere.