Thursday, March 20, 2008


When Abigail falls, really falls, I run to scoop her up. Examine her boo-boos. Give plenty of kisses. And send her on her way. Her falls and the injuries sustained in them have been mercifully minor. But my reaction is always the same, my stomach tightens, my muscles spring awake and into action. Forgetting what I was doing, I go without question to my little girl. I become willing to do anything at any cost to restore her to the girl she was before her fall. I want to save her.

But this world does not work that way. I am unable to save her, my comfort, care and encouragement must be enough. I am woefully inadequate at any of those. And while willing to do anything at any cost to restore her, I am incapable. She carries the scars of each fall.

How often I forget that I too am that little girl. That I too fall and in my falls, I too am injured. That when I fall and when I am injured, I too have someone forgetting His tasks to run to me. To examine my boo-boos. Give me plenty of kisses. And with encouragement send me on my way. He, too, is willing to do anything at any cost to restore me to the girl I was before my fall. He wants to save me.

And He is able!
He is able to save.
He is able to restore.
He is able to redeem.

Where I fall short and where I succeed, He is able.
Always able.

And so this Maundy Thursday, when I started re-reading the Passion, I am touched and reminded and encouraged that my falls touch His heart. Not as someone removed. Nor as one disappointed. Not as a coach disgusted. Nor a teacher frustrated. No my falls touch His heart because He created me. Because He loves me. Because He is my Father. He does not continue washing dishes when He hears me cry; He runs wet hands and all to save me.

It is easy for me to focus on the Garden. "Remove this cup. Not my will, but Thine be done." It is true that Christ asked that His burden be lifted. It is true that He resolved and resigned Himself to the Father's will. I forget in this battle between new man and old, that I am loved with a daddy's love. That God heard me crying and He came. That He wept over Jerusalem. That He died for my redemption and my restoration. Not just as an act of His will, a task to be checked off His to-do list, but as a cry of His heart as a fulfillment of His great love for me.

So today, I am going to curl up in His lap, asking for the kisses and cuddles and hugs that this girl needs before she is sent off encouraged on her way.

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