It's just Me Abby

My son’s eyes grew big.  I held my breath trying to decide if I’ve just shattered his revered perception of me.   

We were at the Send Relief Center in Clarkston hosting our weekly virtual school day. More than forty kids were there with us social distancing around large tables with their laptops open and headphones on.

I had to really hone in on my buddy Khalid.  He’s Syrian, he speaks Arabic, and he’s 6.  He’s Dennis the menace times 100.  He’s brought me to laughter and he’s brought me to tears.  He’s a source of joy and a source of stress.  And I love the mess out of him.

 

He’s was struggling to stay focused in his zoom class. The amount of effort and energy I was exerting to help him stay at his computer and literally keep him from running out the building was depleting me. I decided it was time to call on the big guns for a little help. My 6 foot two grizzly bear of a husband came and sat beside him.

I started circling the tables again with the hopes of an easier undertaking when my son Max called me over.  He needed help with his math assignment.  Easy enough.  Fourth grade math isn’t that hard.  

I cursed under my breath after I tried for the 3rd time to get the problem right. 

Max’s eyes grew big. Apparently my expletive wasn’t as under my breath as I thought.

I died a little death in that moment. What should I do? Pretend it never happened? Wait for him to say something? Deny it? Insist it was another word, “because darling, you know mommy would never say that…”

There are so many times when I feel the weight of my children’s innocence. I’m afraid of any unexpected exposure. I am dreading the day it’s shattered.

I don’t know why it overwhelmed my heart this morning but it did. Because Satan crouches low like a lion ready to pounce on anything he can devour, and because he masquerades himself like an angel of light I started thinking about the different battles my children will inevitably face, fiercely wishing they didn’t have to…or for a machete and a machine gun strapped to my body as I stand in front of them.

My thoughts didn’t stop there. It was as if I turned a set of binoculars around and began seeing the panoramic view of my world.

I moved on to thinking about my husband and the wars he’s waged over the years and the battles he may currently be withstanding. If I could only take the heat of the fight for him.

From there my thoughts migrated to my sister who has completely metamorphed. I think of all the heartaches and exposures she experienced and all the loose choices she’s made. If she’d just let me in, I could love her and speak truth compassionately to her…

So many of my people that I love so dearly facing battles I wish I could take on for them. Because as far as I can see I am God’s greatest gift to my little world.  I am the one who can save them. 

 And I’d be a complete donkey if I continued to tread the path of my treacherous thoughts. 

There is only one gift to this world that wages our wars and fights for us.  He is Immanuel, our God with us.  He is our counselor and our comforter.  He is mighty and victorious.  He is our armor and our weapons.  He is our hope.

We cannot fight anyone else’s battles.  But their war is as much ours when we lean hard into the one who does fight for them.  

My friends, bloody the knees and petition the throne room of grace, for your battle, on their behalf, is won there.