Now that I am a father, I take note of what I tell my infant son. One of the most interesting things is how I try to calm him when he is upset and throwing a fit. “It’s ok, Daddy’s here. Daddy has you, Tommy.” I want that to be sufficient for him. I believe that if he understood, he’d calm down and be at peace. I have his best intentions at heart and am protecting him. He doesn’t need to take on all the stress he’s causing himself.
“Daddy’s here. It’s ok.” Why is it, then, when I am stressed about something in life, I am not comforted knowing that God’s here, that God is my protector, that God is with me, that God knows what’s going on and will pull me through? Why do I not care that my Heavenly Father cares about me and is telling me “take heart,” that he will “never leave” me or “forsake” me?
To go a step further, there have been times when I upset Tommy—changing his diaper, dressing him, waking him up. He doesn’t like what I’m doing and starts to cry. “It’s ok, Tommy. Daddy has to do this, but it’s going to make you feel better soon. Trust Daddy. He knows what he’s doing. It’s going to be ok.”
Rather, I’ve accused my Heavenly Father of hurting me and not trusting his intentions, his providential wisdom, or the larger picture of his good plan. Of course, whining like a baby to God is foolish. I accuse him of not knowing what he’s doing and not having my best interests at heart. He’s God—he’s Daddy– and my maturity, especially in the context of eternity, is as infantile as my son’s understanding. My son’s understanding is so small. Changing his diaper is a good thing, even if he doesn’t think so. Waking him up to give him a bottle is in his long-term best interests, even if he cries. I do those things because I love my son.
I’m not so sure that even the painful things in life, whatever things seem like the end of our world, aren’t much more than a diaper change in the scope of eternity. Often, they are blessings in disguise that give us great opportunities to mature and even be better off. They just don’t look like it in the moment.
Last night, I read through my spiritual journals. A clear theme emerges. I’m constantly crying out to God in a crisis, month after month, year after year. The written prayers are always urgent. Put together, they sound a lot like my son throwing a fit about a diaper change– like it’s the end of the world. In every crisis, in every challenge, I have fared better trusting God than relying on myself.
Trust God, mold yourself to his good will. Realize how much bigger his understanding of life and circumstances are. “Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:9-11) He loves you and you matter to him. “Daddy’s here. It’s ok.” Be at peace.