By Elisabeth Corcoran
A couple more faith lessons out of the moment-to-moment lives of my 5-&-1/2-year-old Sara and 4-year-old Jack. Jack was upset with Sara and rightly so. They had been using the computer together, and I had told Sara that when the big hand was on the four, it would be Jack's turn. Well, as you can guess, the big hand went right on past that little four without Sara blinking an eye...but Jack sure noticed, and he was not happy. He apparently tried to rectify the situation on his own, but with little success. They were in the basement and I was on the 2nd floor - I could hear their escalating voices two stories away. So as I was making my way downstairs to attempt yet another peace treaty, Jack met me in the hall. He looked up at me, didn't say a word (which was unusual), simply placed his hand in mine and led me back to the basement. He knew he was right and he was bringing the law-creator with him to be his law-enforcer. And it worked. We walked down the stairs slowly, almost methodically, as if Jack were hoping to prove a point and give Sara some time to make good on her own. She didn't - until she saw me hand-in-hand with her little nemesis. Then she said, half-heartedly, Sorry, Jack, and moved over to the spectator seat. He smiled at me, let go of my hand, and started playing. All was well again. His chosen mediator didn't even have to say a word to get the job done...just my presence held authority. And I think of us...when we're tired of fighting the good fight, we can walk up to Jesus, take His hand, and walk back into battle with our Law-enforcer. Or better still - when we've done something to let God down, we can still come before Him, with our Mediator reminding God that we are His now...that simply being with Him in His presence - that holds authority. That day, Jack reminded me of the gift we have in Christ as our Intercessor, as the One who bought us now and well into the future.
Now onto Sara. She and Daddy were playing and wrestling, having innocent fun together. When all of the sudden, she accidentally really hurt her Daddy and he sort of belted out an Ouch!. It must have scared her and she must have felt terribly, because she just burst into tears and clung to him and kept saying over and over, between her tears and gulps for air, I'm sorry, Daddy...I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to hurt you. I was stunned by the depth of pain she felt - she was still reeling emotionally well after Kevin was over his small physical affliction. And I almost felt an envy for her...well, for her intensity of repentance. I thought to myself, `when was the last time I went to God and just sobbed, telling Him how sorry I was for my sin, for hurting Him?' It had been too long. But she reminded me in that moment how I really should see myself and my sin, how deeply I really should express my sorrow to my Father...and how, as Kevin did with Sara, He will hug me right back and whisper over and over that He loves me and that it's all okay.
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