Monday, April 11, 2011

Living Faith Outloud: Wrestling

For weeks now, G has been wrestling with some realities.

Like how bad guys {who steal and hurt people} can become good guys when they decide to change their hearts and love Jesus.

And why people who do bad things can be guards or police officers and hold posts of authority over those who seek goodness and kindness.

And why anyone would have wanted to kill Jesus when He didn't do anything wrong.

I imagine his mind in a very real scuffle with these thoughts, feeling very much tossed and beat up, wrestling his very own angel, just as Jacob tumbled with his.

Heavy stuff adults {me! me!} struggle with, and my 3.75 year old is mulling over these realities and trying to stand atop of them, conquer them into some sort of submission or coexistence.

I didn't know these questions would emerge here on my living room floor amid tower-constructing sessions and hands-on combat between his Rescue Hero Squad men versus his brother's.

Each time we begin one of these deep conversations, I find myself slipping under the wavey waters of fairness, while wrestling with theology and doctrine and questions of his that actually are my very own -- and I cry out to God and plead for some solid ground on which to stand, something tangible and real that I can clutch and share with a little boy who has such heavy questions.

Because even though I'm 28 years old {when did that happen?}, I'm such a child in my understanding of Biblical doctrine and theology and history. Such a child, who clings to her small, sensing faith. I wonder how I, someone who is still learning and growing and ever expanding in my knowledge and quest for His truths, how I could possibly lead these boys during the bulky hours of the day my strong husband is working, to our Father's feet.

And each time, I'm reminded that He is my Father. And just like a Father does, He ushers me back to shore, the solid ground of Jesus, grace in the flesh. And He shows me that I don't really have to look any further for something to grasp and hang on to for dear life.

So this morning, after John and G had read another murky-waters Bible story last night about how a bad guy becomes a good guy and about how we all fall short of perfection, we turned the pages of the Bible back to Jesus.

And we read about how He loved the people so much He cared for their needs by feeding them and loving them and healing them and reconciling them to the Father through one perfect sacrafice.

There, on the living room couch, after many long nights of John and G.'s myriad discussions about our imperfections and Jesus' offer of reconiliation on the cross, G. prayed and asked Jesus for forgiveness so he could live with Him forever.

In that moment, my battle -- the one that's been raging internally about how I'm not adequate enough to blaze some trail to the cross -- turned.

I'm not blazing a path for our boys.

Jesus already did that.

I'm on the same journey, following Him. And it's my job to stand next to John, as we walk next to two little boys who are venturing down on the same road of forgiveness and mercy and healing and grace.

It's our job, as parents, to keep turning all of our eyes back to Jesus.

{I've been engaged in 21 Days of Prayer for my sons, and I firmly believe that God is moving greatly in our home because of it. More on this Friday.}

Linked with Thought-Provoking Thursdays at Some Girl's Website.