Have you seen the collections of “Why my kid is crying” pics? They crack me up! A dad started the blog www.reasonsmysoniscrying.com and would post pics along with the reason his toddler was crying or throwing a fit that particular time. It was so relateable that parents were soon sending him pics with corresponding reasons their own children were crying. The reasons range from “I wouldn’t let him lick the doormat” and “I asked her if she wanted a grape” to “He couldn’t fit all the crayons in one hand” and “He doesn’t want the banana he wasn’t offered.”
I remember crying about things when I was a toddler and pre-schooler. (Yes, I really do remember a lot from those ages, mostly in impressions and emotions. I’m amazing, I know. We’ll talk about that another time.) Sometimes I would feel incensed that my mom didn’t feel the gravity of my situation and respond accordingly and immediately. Other times I had a sense deep down that my crying and the way I was feeling was not quite “right” somehow, that I could bring it in control if I really tried. Of course, even at the ripe old age of four years old the knowledge was there, but the ability to act on it was just out of reach. That’s why my mom had to teach me how.
I was thinking about all of this as I washed up for the day; how kids can be so irrational and amusing in the silly things they freak out about. As adults we know that what seems unbearable or horrendous to a child is not even something that would raise our interest. Not only can we process difficulties better, but we can recognize what is and is not a problem. Someone offers me a grape that I don’t want? I say “No, thank you, but thanks for asking.” I’m not insulted or threatened. What was reason for a crying fit in a child has become a positive reason for thanks as an adult.
Of course there are legitimate reasons for little ones to cry or be afraid, but even then it’s usually a situation in which they haven’t learned yet that it’s something Mom or Dad can easily handle. That’s why as parents we sooth and comfort as we guide them through the problem. They skinned a knee? We talk soothingly and comfort them as we clean it and bandage it. Isn’t that how God is with us?
What if God has a collection of “Why my kid is crying” pics of us? What would the captions read?
“She wanted help but kept pushing my hand away”
“I said it was time to rest quietly”
“Her old boots were pinching her feet so I got her new ones. She didn’t want to take the old ones off.”
“I told him to trust me”
What do we think is reasonable cause to fear or thrash about emotionally and stay in loops of destructive thinking? (Hint: the answer should be “nothing.”) Does God look at anything in our lives and think, “Oh yeah, that’s a hard one. I’d be freaking out, too!” (Hint: you don’t get a hint on this one.)
What my family is experiencing right now does look terrible, but God is so much bigger and more awe-inspiring than cancer and feeding tubes and trachs. He knows just how much we need to rest quietly in Him as he comforts our hearts and soothes our pain. Cancer does not scare Him. The valley of the shadow of death disappears as he casts his eye on it, because he is light. We are walking through that valley with our hands firmly in His.
Can you believe that in God’s eyes, even this cancer–a horrible always fatal kind–is not scary or difficult? Not that He doesn’t lovingly and gently comfort us. He does absolutely. He’s just so much bigger than any of it.
What would God’s “Why my kid is crying” pic of me look like?
I’d be bawling and He’d caption it, “I told her again that I was her provision. Just like I always have been. For her whole adult life.”
Or maybe, “She was exhausted so I told her to rest.”
I thank Him that I can feel His loving and patient look as I come back yet again to remember His promises; and they are such great promises!
What would God’s “Why my kid is crying” pic of you look like?