When our one-year-old son Russell doesn’t want his diaper changed, or doesn’t want us to put on his clothes, or doesn’t want to get in his car seat, he can put up quite a struggle for a 20-some pounder. Gabby, our au pair, will often say in her Chinese accent, “Baby, don’t struggle,” when trying to get his diaper on or a shirt over his head. It’s so cute how she says that phrase, and when I hear her, I wonder if God ever says something like that to me.
When Russell struggles against something that is so obviously good for him, I wish I could communicate in a way he could understand. … “Baby, this seatbelt will keep you safe,” I might say, and he would smile and calmly settle back against the seat… I suppose he will learn as he grows.
I wonder if when I struggle, God longs to communicate his heart to me in the same way I long to communicate with Russell. …“Baby,” he might say, “don’t struggle with fear because I’ve got the whole world in my hands. Baby, don’t struggle with concerns about what others might think because the only one who matters has already weighed in and is absolutely crazy about you. Baby, don’t struggle to prove yourself right or influential or put-together or justified because if I am for you, then who can be against you?”… And I would lean back against his promises and rest.
I suppose I’ll have to learn as I grow too.