Yesterday son1 was ill. Tired and ill. He got progressively more and more grumpy as the day went on. At the end of the day he wailed to be allowed to watch I’m Blue dab oh Dee dab oh dye (don’t ask why he loves the late 90s dance tunes…). I let him play it through 3 times (because he’s three…) and then took the phone away. It was then that the end of the world happened (did you miss it, it was about 4.30pm yesterday). He raged and wept and raged again. All he wanted I wouldn’t give him and I held his poorly sad exhausted body as he wriggled, kicked and screamed.
It’s in these times that I most sense the parent heart of God. I see my messy screaming son and I love him so so much. I am not going to give him what he wants, as I’m pretty sure it’s not good for him. He hates that I’m not, and yet I’m his safe place, so he kicks off where he knows love. In my arms.
I know I’m like this with God. I shout and scream. I run from him (but not too far) I kick, I cry and I lash out. What I sensed yesterday is that in all of that mess God remains, God loves me in the midst of the angst. He tenderly holds on. My demands don’t wear down his patience, my insistence on being in control or right aren’t a barrier to his unceasing love. And even though I hate that he doesn’t often give us what we want right now, I love that he still soothes us, wipes away our angry tears and holds us tight when we kick off.
My brother’s excellent blog post last night (you really should read it, it’s beautiful) reminded me of a couple of my favourite Rich Mullins songs. He had it right when he said ‘I know that I am only lashing out, at the one who loves me most.’ And when he cried, ‘Hold me Jesus, cos I’m shaking like a leaf, you have been my King of Glory, won’t you be my Prince of Peace.’