Last night at bedtime I saw the stark contrast in my two daughters.
We had been snuggling on the couch watching a movie when 8:00 rolled around.
Let’s just get this out of the way: 8:00 is sacred. SACRED. Because 8:00 means
that my beloved children who bring me such joy but who also talk without
stopping for at least thirteen hours straight and say the word MOMMY four
hundred billion times a day will now go to a separate room, fall asleep
peacefully (yeah right), and allow me to eat my melted-then-frozen-peanut
butter-coconut oil-maple syrup-chocolate chip-every single night treat in…get
this…silence.
Sacred, get it?
So when the clock struck 8 I got off the couch to turn off the
movie. “We’ll finish this one tomorrow, it’s time for bed!” (Can you hear how
chipper my voice is getting now that it’s 8:00?) And that’s when I saw the
difference, not for the first time.
Claire: “Mom, can we please, please, please just watch five
more minutes? I remember what’s about to happen and it will be a great place to
stop if we just watch a little more. Actually, I think if we watch just a few
more minutes it will be exactly halfway done. It’s really not quite halfway
yet. Mom, I promise we will not complain if we can just watch a few more
minutes…”…and on…and on…and on…
Honey, I’m sorry but I’m
not going to change my answer. It’s time for bed.
AK: “No it’s not.”
And there you have it. The six year old lawyer who argues
her case for 10 minutes straight and the 3 year old free spirit who simply
denies reality. A pretty accurate picture of these two small characters who
live in my house.
I’ve been thinking a lot about words lately. Even from the
youngest age, we are ever using our words to try to define our reality, whether
it’s through logic or sheer determination. Maybe it’s because we’re made in the image of
a Creator who loves to use words.
It started in the beginning, when the universe held its
formless and void breath to see just how He was going to do His mighty work. If
I didn’t already know the answer, I would have guessed that He would use His
hands – maybe wave them or point them or clap them together. But no. He only
spoke. Just words. But words that resulted in existence and beauty and light
and life.
Now, He did use more than words to create humanity. He used
His hands and the dust of the ground and His holy breath. But then He spoke. He spoke over His newest creation words that
resulted in blessing and purpose and identity.
And then darkness crept back in, and the first man and woman
believed the lie over the truth and the deceiver over the Creator and then they
hid. And here came the sound of the Lord walking in the garden and His words –
words that resulted in exposure and confession because nothing can be hidden
from the eyes of the One who made them all.
And everything seemed hopeless and ruined. And the words
came that brought sorrow and grief and justice because the wages of sin must be
paid.
But.
There is the Creator with His words, always weaving
life and light and beauty and existence because this is who He is. As just as
He is merciful, and as gracious as He is holy. And the words came that brought
hope. The seed of a promise, hope for redemption and a happy ending.
Maybe that’s why words are so important to us. Maybe they reflect
this part of His image, as broken as it might be in our crooked souls. And
maybe instead of arguing for a later bedtime, or denying that it is bedtime, or
screaming “Everybody go to bed so I can eat my chocolate!!!”, we should
recognize something that in our deepest souls, we crave desperately: our Maker’s
words of life. May we seek out and meditate on and treasure these words,
because this – this is where life is found.
The law of the Lord is perfect, restoring the soul; the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple. The precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes. The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever; the judgments of the Lord are true; they are righteous altogether. They are more desirable than gold, yes, than much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb.
