Child of God

Little Mia is only 7 years old. One afternoon she came running into the house after school. Full of emotion and nearly empty of breath as she ran to her room and closed the door. Something was up. I walked to Mia’s door and gently knocked to let her know I was there. No answer. “Mia” I said  in the kindest voice I knew. “Mia, are you ok?” Hesitantly, she  responded after a short silence that felt like an eternity. “No, I am not ok.” Slowly, I opened the door peeking in to see what state her fragile heart might be in. She was sitting on her bed with her head buried in her hands as if to try and hide from the whole world. I sat down next to her, rubbed her back and  tried to comfort a problem I was unaware of. I knew to my Mia that nearly every problem could shatter the small world that seems to be made of glass in her ever-growing and wonder-filled mind. “What happened honey?” I said trying to help pry open the oyster of pain that I knew was holding my pearl of a little girl captive. “Nothing,” she said sharply. Surely, by now she knew that I was aware that it was in fact something. Trying again to see if maybe my words could help her lift her head and see that I wanted to listen and  understand, I said, “Mia, you can tell me”. With tears rolling down her face she looked at me, the shell was open and before me was the girl that I saw take her first breath,  brought home from the hospital, who in the last few years had grown to be fearless when once she was so impossibly fragile. How could she be so upset? Who could have hurt her? Timidly, but eventually, she said, “The boys on the bus  made fun of me for singing.” 

You see, everyday Mia sits behind the bus driver and sings as the bus moves from stop to stop. On this day, however, her elementary serenade was not received by two little boys on the bus.  

Mia continued to tell me the story of what happened. And after a long talk, she calmed down and realized that there are people in life who won’t always understand who she is or why she does what she does. But that the answer is not for us to be mean or hate those who don’t understand us because Jesus loves all of us, even those of us who don’t understand.  

I have thought a lot about that day with Mia and I see myself in her a lot. Often we can run to isolate ourselves, clam up, or even shut down when things are bad or we are misunderstood. This is the exact moment that God is knocking on the door of our heart longing to sit with us, listen, and care for us. But we miss these moments so often because we think He doesn’t care or we forget that we have access to Him. As a dad I hope that one day my children  know that they can come home from a hard day and run to my room, interrupt what I am doing and tell me what is wrong. I know our heavenly father feels the same way. He is not frustrated with your hard day. He is not too busy for you. He won’t be in a hurry to fix things and move on. He loves  you and wants to sit with you. You can go to Him, trust Him, cry to Him, and He will always listen because He loves you. Let’s never forget that we have access to a loving Heavenly Father. 

“What marvelous love the Father has extended to us! Just look at  it—we’re called children of God! That’s who we really are. But  that’s also why the world doesn’t recognize us or take us seriously,  because it has no idea who he is or what he’s up to.” 1 John 3:1