Monday, June 18, 2012

Worth More Than Sparrows

I didn't know it would be so hard to raise them. I didn't know it would be so hard to protect them. I didn't know I could feel so helpless. I didn't know I could feel so angry on their behalf.

When they are wronged.
When they are shunned.
When they are made fun of.
When they are ignored.

Many of us have felt these very things (I do not escape this label), but when our own flesh and blood, our own fruit of labor, our own delicate hearts whom we pour ourselves into hourly--when they are wronged...our hearts crumble.

Mine does.

Because I can't fix it.
Because I can't control others.
Because I can't create a perfect world for them.
Because I can't shield them like I thought I could.
Because I can't stop the tears.

I was made fun of in school. I was told I wasn't wanted in the "club." I was blatantly ignored. Maybe you were, too. I remember the way it made my heart tremble and my chin quiver. I see the same quiver on my eldest son's chin as he tells me what is said, that doors are shut in his face, that he is not wanted. I engulf him in my arms and tell him he is wanted, fiercely. I tell him that sometimes others don't understand what they are doing and how it can tear us apart. I tell him how Jesus loves him more than any other could love him.

And he still hurts.

I hang towels on the line and watch the birds as they dance from branch to branch. I remember His promise that we are worth more than the sparrow. I have to look it up because I can't recall the location, but when I do, I weep as I read His words: "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father's care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows" (Matt. 10:29-31 NIV).

So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

He cares when our hearts hurt. As I finish the basket of towels, I realize that He cares because He's been there.

Of course.

His son was wronged, shunned, made fun of, ignored.

And so much more.

More than I can imagine. And I was in on it. I was His enemy once, yet He reached out to me to save me...even while I was hurting His son.

Now He calls me His child, and His heart crumbles when mine breaks. He is sad when I cry. He knows every part of me, even those I don't know myself.

He loves me when I've been the one who hurts and when I'm the one is hurt. This is what relieves my prone-to-anger heart--that I've been the one who hurts, yet He loved me the same.

Lord, may we love like You love. May we give Your love back, even when we hurt.

Peace of Christ to you,

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