Friday, March 05, 2004
Alright, maybe I have children on my mind lately, but I continue to see our relationship with God in the lives of children at every turn. The other night, I took my daughter to gymnastics class. Now you have to know my daughter to fully picture this event. Anna’s ten years old but due to a genetic disease, she’s delayed in both size and ability. She’d pass for a five year old in any group. So I took here to gymnastics the other night and watched her from the parents viewing area.
She and her group went through their stations, pausing to stretch first, then moving on to tumbling and somersaults. That’s where I had to stand and watch. How in the world were they going to get this special needs child to pull off a somersault? The girl before her did a pretty good job, better than I could do. Now it was my daughter’s turn. She stands and walks over to the instructor. But before she starts the routine, Anna looks across the gym to see if I’m watching. Once she sees me looking, she begins to wave, and wont’ stop until I wave back. The other kids are backing up now, the instructor is trying to get my daughter to focus on the task at hand. . . and all Anna is thinking about is waving to her dad.
I quickly wave in reply and satisfy my daughter’s need. Now on to the somersault. I cant’ here what’s going on, but I can tell from the halting movements that the teacher is telling my daughter to raise her hands above her head and lean to the right. Now put one hand on the floor. The instructor’s hands are firmly grasping my daughter’s waist. Now comes the hard part. The instructor picks up my daughter and helps her over, but Anna isn’t cooperating. Both hands go out and the feet go sprawling. The beginning of a great somersault ends in a crawling position on the floor.
They’ll try it once again. Hands above the head. Lean to the right. Pick up and turn, but she lands on all fours again. Two attempts is all the teacher has in her. She raises her hand in the air and Anna draws near to complete a high five. And as she walks back to her place, my little girl looks out to me with a big smile and that waving hand. She did a somersault, got a high five, and made he daddy proud.
I think God must look at us the same way. Our best efforts must be so beneath his standards of perfection. But we try our best, hands raise high, lean to the right, but always land on all fours. Time and again our spiritual gymnastics look nothing like his example. But when we’re through, he gives us a high five, and waves to us in affirmation. Job well done. And even in our imperfection, somehow, we make our daddy proud
She and her group went through their stations, pausing to stretch first, then moving on to tumbling and somersaults. That’s where I had to stand and watch. How in the world were they going to get this special needs child to pull off a somersault? The girl before her did a pretty good job, better than I could do. Now it was my daughter’s turn. She stands and walks over to the instructor. But before she starts the routine, Anna looks across the gym to see if I’m watching. Once she sees me looking, she begins to wave, and wont’ stop until I wave back. The other kids are backing up now, the instructor is trying to get my daughter to focus on the task at hand. . . and all Anna is thinking about is waving to her dad.
I quickly wave in reply and satisfy my daughter’s need. Now on to the somersault. I cant’ here what’s going on, but I can tell from the halting movements that the teacher is telling my daughter to raise her hands above her head and lean to the right. Now put one hand on the floor. The instructor’s hands are firmly grasping my daughter’s waist. Now comes the hard part. The instructor picks up my daughter and helps her over, but Anna isn’t cooperating. Both hands go out and the feet go sprawling. The beginning of a great somersault ends in a crawling position on the floor.
They’ll try it once again. Hands above the head. Lean to the right. Pick up and turn, but she lands on all fours again. Two attempts is all the teacher has in her. She raises her hand in the air and Anna draws near to complete a high five. And as she walks back to her place, my little girl looks out to me with a big smile and that waving hand. She did a somersault, got a high five, and made he daddy proud.
I think God must look at us the same way. Our best efforts must be so beneath his standards of perfection. But we try our best, hands raise high, lean to the right, but always land on all fours. Time and again our spiritual gymnastics look nothing like his example. But when we’re through, he gives us a high five, and waves to us in affirmation. Job well done. And even in our imperfection, somehow, we make our daddy proud
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
I attended a piano recital this past weekend and learned a lot about what’s truly important in life. I sat there with a room full of anxious parents and children awaiting their turn at the keyboard. Each child played a simple selection made more difficult by the tension of performing before a crowd. Some played flawlessly. Others bobbled a few notes.
Yet the real blessing of the event was in watching the interaction between the parents and children. As each child went to the piano, it wasn’t hard to recognize the parents. They inched forward in their chairs, nervously played with their hands. You could tell they had heard their children play these selections hundreds of times before and carefully followed each note. You could see their twinge of pain when a wrong note was played. You could see joyful release when the performance was over. And you could see the pride well up inside of them and bubble out through beaming smiles as their children returned to their seats.
You could also see something special in each child. The solemn faces they carried to the piano now gave way to release as they returned to their seats. With a room full of guests and three judges scribbling notes, the only face the children looked for when finished was the face of their parents. They knew how well they had performed, but these children looked to their parents for confirmation of a job well done. When the performance had not gone so well, they each looked to see if their failure had changed their parent’s love for them. And when those little eyes met the pride-filled smile of mom or dad, you could see a sudden sense of peace.
The world may have faced turmoil this week. Governments may have been overthrown, the future of politicians may have been cemented, Sports figures and divas may have stood trial, but for these children and their parents, it all came down to a look of unconditional love and a job well done. I attended a piano recital this past weekend and learned a lot about what’s truly important in life.
Yet the real blessing of the event was in watching the interaction between the parents and children. As each child went to the piano, it wasn’t hard to recognize the parents. They inched forward in their chairs, nervously played with their hands. You could tell they had heard their children play these selections hundreds of times before and carefully followed each note. You could see their twinge of pain when a wrong note was played. You could see joyful release when the performance was over. And you could see the pride well up inside of them and bubble out through beaming smiles as their children returned to their seats.
You could also see something special in each child. The solemn faces they carried to the piano now gave way to release as they returned to their seats. With a room full of guests and three judges scribbling notes, the only face the children looked for when finished was the face of their parents. They knew how well they had performed, but these children looked to their parents for confirmation of a job well done. When the performance had not gone so well, they each looked to see if their failure had changed their parent’s love for them. And when those little eyes met the pride-filled smile of mom or dad, you could see a sudden sense of peace.
The world may have faced turmoil this week. Governments may have been overthrown, the future of politicians may have been cemented, Sports figures and divas may have stood trial, but for these children and their parents, it all came down to a look of unconditional love and a job well done. I attended a piano recital this past weekend and learned a lot about what’s truly important in life.
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
I'm just starting a weblog for any who are interested keeping up with me, my thoughts, family, and the church of Christ at Herrin. It's a new venture for me and one I hope will be a blessing to all who log on. I plan to post messages regularly so check in often to see what's new.
