Friday, February 4. 2005

White Suit, Brown Boy

Here's another gem of an article by Sheila Walsh. You can also click on the 'Read More' link to read it.

Reading the first few sentences made me cringe. If I were Sheila, I would imagine myself to tell my son to wipe his chocolate-covered hands first before he can hug me in my new white suit. But this sentence struck me deeply,

"I want to be part of God's show-and-tell to my son. I want him to know deep in his heart that he can come to me at any time with anything and I will receive him. At three he comes with chocolate on his face but at fifteen he might come with a darker stain on his soul."


Whoops. Thank God I'm not a mother yet! How mortifying to be wounding the souls of innocent children. I know God's grace can cover my mistakes and heal wounded hearts but it's better if one is prepared mentally and emotionally before being a parent. Thank God for people like Sheila Walsh and the parenting workshop leaders who share their experiences so that we can learn how to impart the good stuff to our offspring.

I guess, this also applies to my relationship with the people I mentor. To let them know that they can come to God when they mess up. And that's only possible when I abide closely in God's presence.
"I saw him coming! I looked at my white suit and then I looked at the chocolate covered face and sticky hands of my three year old son Christian and I knew that I had to make a quick decision.

In just a few moments I would go on stage to speak to several thousand women and chocolate-boy was heading straight for me. I loved this new suit. It was pure white with a navy stripe around the edges. When I bought it I questioned the wisdom of my color choice but it fit so well and was a welcome change from my regulation black or navy.

Christian doesn't always come to the arenas where I speak most Friday nights. Sometimes he is tired and will stay at the hotel with his nanny but on this Friday he was bright-eyes and bushy-tailed.

"Mommy, can I have some chocolate cake?" he asked; his big brown eyes wide with just the thought of it.

"Did you eat your chicken?" I inquired.

"Yes I did and three yucky green beans too!"

"Then you can have some cake," I said.

Christian doesn't really eat chocolate cake, he tends to inhale it. He attacks it as one might dive into an oasis after five parched days in an arid desert.

"Five minutes, Ladies," our stage manager, Dave announced.

I re-applied my lipstick and turned to head to the back stage area when I heard my son's voice as he ran towards me.

"I love you mommy!"

I saw the chocolate encrusted face and sticky hands approaching but I saw something else, something far more compelling. I saw the look in his eyes. I saw the love and trust that a child has for a parent. I saw the twinkle and joy that Christian and I share in our relationship. I saw the abandon he has when he throws himself at his dad or his mom. I knelt down and opened my arms and scooped him up in a big hug. When I released him and put him down again I had little chocolate deposits on the shoulders of my suit and a big chocolate kiss on my cheek. I smiled down at my brown eyed son and headed for the stage, my friend Marilyn Meberg wiping my cheek as we walked.

One of the joys of speaking to women is that they totally understand the chocolate-on-the-suit thing. I have gone up on stage with mashed carrots on my shoulders when he was just a little baby or drool on my lapel. (Let me hasten to add here that I make it to the stage most weekends food-free.) I know that it would be perfectly acceptable to divert an oncoming food disaster but I made a commitment to Christian before he was born that speaks to moments like these.

I want to be part of God's show-and-tell to my son. I want him to know deep in his heart that he can come to me at any time with anything and I will receive him. At three he comes with chocolate on his face but at fifteen he might come with a darker stain on his soul. My prayer for him is a simple one,

Father God,
Let Christian know that he can come to You just as he is in all the moments of his life. Let him know that even if he feels he can't come to me he will know he can always come to You."
This week there was an envelope in Christian's backpack with my name on it. All the children in his class had written a thank-you note for me. They were all so sweet but one in particular touched me. It said, "Thank you for telling me that I can come to God when I mess up. I mess up a lot."

If only we could hold on to that truth. I don't know what kind of week you are having but I do know one thing that has not changed and will never change and that is God's heart toward you. You are loved, treasured, watched over and protected by your loving heavenly Father.

I lift up my eyes to the hills--where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip-- he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The LORD watches over you-- the LORD is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD will keep you from all harm- he will watch over your life; the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore. Psalm 121

May God's presence be very real to you this week.

~ Sheila Walsh
Posted by coolcat in Testimonies at Permalink | Comment (1) | Trackbacks (0)
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*This may be a bit off ... but hey! Kong hei fatt choy, woman! And journey mercies if you're travelling. =)
#1 Anonymous on 2005-02-05 05:37 (Reply)

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