Sometimes I sit and look at these little faces and I think what fun God must have had designing them. Fahsai with her perfect, smooshy cheeks and Guav with his dimple. Sky's eyes, Kwan's smile, and Paet's adorable nose.
Today, I was sitting at the desk doing math with 7 year old Zachy. He was working on his twos tables in multiplication and while he's done this same type of lesson with ease recently, today it was a little harder for him. He was intensely concentrating but struggling to come up with the answers.
What I wanted to do was help him. I wanted to interrupt his focus and save him the stress by giving him a hint. But I saw him staring so hard at the wall, counting in his head, and I knew I needed to be silent and let his brain work. So I instead busied myself watching his tiny face.
He's a small-framed boy with legs so skinny that he, himself, calls them noodles. His hair is blonde and mostly wavy with a few errant curls keeping his look a little on the wild side. His face is thin and angular and he's got a button nose. His eyes are wide and there's a spattering of freckles across his pale cheeks. When he focuses hard, the tip of a little pink tongue peeps out to help with the hard work of thinking.
As I took all this in today, my mind was drawn in by this image of the absolute joy God surely gets as He creates each new baby. As He "programs" each one with how they'll look as they grow. How tenderly He must gaze on them as He watches, captivated by their stunning beauty ... the work of His own hand.
Zach worked his problems and celebrated briefly that he'd not missed any and then he threw himself on my lap. As I squeezed him, I imagined how eagerly God must be waiting to do exactly what I was doing in that moment. I think we so often forget that while God is all-powerful and all-knowing and always present, He has limited Himself as this war plays itself out.
And as I considered how much I miss even my grown kids when we're separated, I understand just a tiny bit better the pain God must feel waiting for the culmination of this mess.
My selfish heart always thinks to how we'll feel being rescued. But I rarely gaze with the eyes of my imagination on the scene from His perspective. His children have been in a war zone and He's worked endlessly and tirelessly to protect us. The joy of coming to actually get us ... I can't even begin to imagine what that'll be like for Him.
But it's a beautiful thought and I don't want to let it get away!
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