Friday, December 21, 2012

That He gave His only Son...

I heard a story on KTIS driving into work the other day that made me cry and touched me so much. Being a parent now, things about children affect me more and this one was no different. For Christmas this year, we are planning to serve dinner to 50 people in a homeless shelter downtown, and I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was a bit nervous to bring Aven. After hearing this story it just put things into perspective for me that Aven isn't solely MY child. She is a child of God,  entrusted to my care while she's on earth. Thinking about it that way is so different than the worldly way of looking at our children as our possessions or our prizes. I don't want this to come across as that I don't view Aven as my daughter - because I do - but I recognize that every good and perfect gift comes from above, including her.

My point is that this story really hit home for me and helped me to feel more at ease with bringing Aven to a different and perhaps uncomfortable environment on Christmas. What better way to show the love of Christ than through the smiling eyes of a little baby.

Read the story below...

We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly Erik squealed with glee and said, ‘Hi.’ He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter as he wriggled and giggled with merriment. I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled.. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists as he said ‘Hi there, baby, hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster,” the man said to Erik. My husband and I exchanged looks, ‘What do we do?’ Erik continued to laugh and answer, ‘Hi. ‘Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, ‘Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo!’ Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously intoxicated I thought. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence, all except for Erik who was running through his repertoire for the admiring transient, who in turn, reciprocated with his comments. We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. ‘Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,’ I prayed. As I drew closer to the man I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby’s ‘pick-me-up’ position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man.

 Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby shared their love and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man’s ragged shoulder. The man’s eyes closed and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time.

 I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, ‘You take care of this baby.’ Somehow I managed, ‘I will,’ from a throat that contained a stone.
He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, ‘God bless you, ma’am, you’ve given me my Christmas gift.’ I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, ‘My God, my God, forgive me.’ I had just witnessed Christ’s love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment, a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was God asking, ‘Are you willing to share your son for a moment?’ when He shared His for all eternity. How did God feel when he put his baby in our arms 2000 years ago? The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, ‘To enter the Kingdom of God, we must become as little children. Sometimes it takes a child to remind us of what is really important.

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