A Lesson In Trust
Yesterday, a whirlwind invaded our lives and I had to deal with it, (him actually) by myself. Well, it was not really a whirlwind, but it was no gentle breeze either. Our grandson, Sam who is now 18 months of the cutest little boy you ever saw, no bias in that statement, is in town for a few days as his Dad does some business back in Ontario, and so he invaded my heart and life for much of yesterday.
His Nono (Italian grandfather) dropped him off yesterday morning around breakfast time, and his aunts picked him up in the afternoon, after his nap, and before mine, which was required by then. Since his grandma had a sewing class yesterday, which was less of a sewing class than a class in Computer Assisted Design of embroidery, which is pretty cool, one of our first orders of business was to deliver grandma to class, and of course take Sam in for the oohing and aahing that accompanies the presence of a small child in the midst of a gaggle of women.
My dear wife asked me if I was up to the challenge of being alone with Sam for several hours. To that, I said this was my shot, since she was heading to Calgary on Friday for a week to get a grandchild fix. Very bright woman that she is, she understood the importance of getting to be alone with Sam was for me.
Well, after we dropped Grandma off in Mount Brydges, about 20 minutes from our home, Sam and I headed off for high adventure. Sam was so excited about the prospects that he fell asleep in the car on the way back to town. I am sure that he was excited, just has a laid back way of showing it. We made a stop at the Costco near our home in the west end of London, and I woke the little toad up, put him in a cart and we started our little bit of shopping. Sam is a real smiler, and cute as a button, so he draws other grandparents in the vicinity like a magnet. He survived the attention, and we wended our way back home for play time.
At home, we had some toys for him to play with. Some of them were in a zip lock bag, and Sam delicately took them out one at a time from the bag. Well, no he didn't. He tipped the bag upside down, and laughed uproariously at the new mess on the floor, like he had just done something special, which of course, he had. He played delightedly amidst the little mess he had made and I just watched in awe at this beautiful little child, storing memories of each facial expression, how he looked like his Dad, and then like his uncle, and how he looked to me for approval, and ran to me for hugs every few minutes. It was love therapy.
Sam's vocabulary is limited to a few somewhat distinguishable words, but his meaning is quite clear, and his smile melts hearts. I kept him juiced up, well, milked up as he expressed interest, and gave him some banana to keep him from starving to death. Then for lunch we had grilled cheese sandwiches. Following lunch, it was time to plug in the Sam batteries for recharging, and off he went for a nap in the crib we have for him. Some time later, his aunts arrived to pry him out of my cold, dead hands, and over my dead body. I hadn't realized that they were taking custody of my little charge, and were the delivery team back to Nono and Nona (Italian grandmother).
Before they left, we all had play time with Sam, and there I learned a real interesting lesson in trust. His one aunt was busy taking pictures of him as he did some of his antics. At one time she was siting on the floor beside the big chair I was in, and Sam was on my lap. He wanted to get to his aunt, and so he started to climb over the side. I held on to his ankles and he was suspended in mid air. I then pulled him back and the real game started. Over he went, and back I pulled him several times. Sam trusted that I would not let him go, and of course, I wouldn't.
After a little of this, he left with his aunts, and I was left with delightful memories and this thought of his trust in me and my love for him in that little game, cum lesson.
Jesus asked us to come to him like little children, and here was a little child showing me what Jesus meant. God wants us to trust him, like Sam trusted me. Unlike me, in that I might have slipped, though I didn't, even with all the squirming that accompanied the game, and pant slippage, God does not slip or ever let us go, even if we jump off the cliff of a chair or a bigger cliff in our lives. When we squirm and jump off the cliffs of our lives, He is there to comfort and to heal us. But, the thing that gets in the way, is that we fail to trust that He is there and will do what he promises us, and so we hide from him as Adam and Eve did in the Garden of Eden.
Why is that? I think it comes from us relying too much on what our eyes see, and too little on what our heart sees. Sam's eyes did not see the danger of his little escapade, but his heart knew that my love for him would not easily let him get hurt.
If I his earthly grandfather loves him enough to protect him and prevent him from coming to harm as he explores his world, how much more does our loving Father, His Son and Holy Spirit love the Sams of this world, which is all of us?