Encouragement
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Crayon Stars
It always amazed me as I was raising my 6 kids. How often Father God would teach me something through my kids. They were His little “stage actors”. While I sat in the Opera Box to watch. Those times when one of the kids takes another cookie, and you hear Momma say: “I told you no more", just as you hit “play again” on your game controller. “Surely she was talking to the kids” you think to yourself. But then you get that “tap-tap-tap” on the shoulder of your conscious, as the Holy Spirit reminds you it’s time to study. Admit it - more often than not, your reaction to Him – looked a lot like their reaction to Momma…. Or sometimes they’d try so hard to do something. But end up with a mess for us to clean up instead;
One spring evening after a hard day at work. I pulled into our drive toward my beautiful “African Stick Plant” flowers. The sweet songs of the evening birds, seemed to welcome me home once again. I just sat there in the car for a few minutes, taking in the serenity of the moment. Then a loooong sigh of relief that the day was finally over, found it’s relieving expression. I got out of the car – walked to the door - and reached for the handle to the “evening shift” of my life . When I entered the kitchen. My 27 year old wife, pregnant with our 5th little forthcoming blessing in 8 years, greeted me with: "go look under the Toy Room desk”!!! Her tone was subtle, and yet similar to that of letting off steam from locomotive brakes.
Whenever I walked in the door of our humble abode, and her greeting was anything other than: “Hi Honey - how was your day?”, it usually meant there was a list of: “WAIT TILL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME” moments, waiting for ME to deal with. Very quickly I deduced Momma had some “pent up” frustrations and anger. Surely residue from being robbed of her hope for a peace filled restful day -- once again --. She had graciously kept a mental list for me, of all the dubious infractions our 4 kids under 8 years old had gifted her with during the day. The second revealing sign of another “Indian uprising” against our “little house on the prairie”, were the tell tale “smoke signals” wafting ever so consistently up from her ears….
Now, I was only 28 years old at the time. - But my vast experience in this type of hostile environment had already taught me, that if I wanted ANY peace & rest that evening myself, I had to “release that built up steam” in Momma FIRST THING… These were typically the moments that brought to my memory Bill Cosby stories of his childhood, siting: “When my father walked in the door after work every night, you could almost hear the blowing of trumpets to announce: “let the beatings begin.” Which was surely part of her thought process attached to her “Wait till your father gets home” plan. Occasionally I had to act on those thoughts of hers, just to release her seething desire to SEE THEM PAY. After which, she would hug them, and I remained the bad guy, or so it seemed to me....
So I went to the Toy Room - looked under the desk - and found a Crayon drawing of a “Star” on my newly textured & painted wall. I quickly returned to the kitchen ever so quietly, so as not to stir her boiling temper or alert the Indians, and asked my wife: "Sooo – you got any suspects?" – With another subtle burst of the steam she said: "Nope, nobody will admit to anything.”
I thought to myself, this time "spanking the masses" IS NOT gonna expose the offender. But suddenly logic welled up within me. I grabbed some paper and crayons from the locked kitchen drawer, and called my 2 Sons who were 4 & 5 years old to the kitchen: "Hey guys, come here”, I beckoned. “Whhooo - can draw me a star?"
Gentric, my 5 year old Son, raised his little hand with excitement and said: "I can Daddy, - I can,- let ME try!" So taking the crayon in his skilled little hand. With the tip of his little tongue precariously sticking out of his mouth, (great artists are quirky you know). He quickly drew a star on his paper, and excitedly said “look Daddy, look – I can draw just like you”…
“Tont – Tont – Tah,Aha,Ahaa”!!! Swiftly I noticed the STRIKING resemblance to the Crayon Star on the wall of the Toy Room. I fought the urge to raise my eyebrows in an expression of discovery, and quietly subdued my desire to shout a resounding “AH- HAAA” with my finger in the air !!!!!
AT LAST I thought - visible evidence that watching that Sherlock Holmes Marathon last weekend, had rendered me with “Super Sleuth” abilities. My newly honed detective skills, had FLUSHED the culprit from hiding!!! But before I rushed off to order my “Pipe, Cloak & Hat”. I had to confront the villain - and in an epic manner - of course…
I told my Son, "WOW, Gent!” – “That's an AWESOME Star Son." He was beaming ear to ear now. But then shy, and humble as his earthly daddy, he resigned his gaze to the floor…
I was lost in a moment of pride. There before my very eyes, my own creative nature had “sprung forth” from the hands of my firstborn Son. – BUT THEN - wrenched from my day dream vision of: Standing against a sunlit horizon - hands on my hips in “Super Dad” stance - cape all a flutter in the gentle evening breeze - the “Dad Duty” at hand beckoned my “Serious Daddy Skills”… So I said: "you know what Son, your STAR looks just like one I saw a few minutes ago - come here - let me show it to you.”
At 5, bounding with excitement, he followed me to the Toy Room. - I got down on my knees. Crawled under the desk with him right beside me. Then slowly held his Crayon Star drawing up next to the Star on the wall - PERFECT MATCH!!!----- Oh, how quickly his little face went from pride to lowering his head in shame. His little lower lip started to pout out and tremble. As tears began to well up in his little blue eyes.---
You see, sometime during his play day. He found a couple of lost crayons on the floor - which just happened to be under the desk. Surely he thought: “I can practice my drawing, so I can be as good as Daddy some day, and make him proud of me.”--- He just didn’t know the right way – or place - to express it at 5 years old. He really didn’t know the combination to the locked drawer where the paper and crayons were kept. And Momma was probably to busy chasing his 2 year old baby brother Jamie, (if not tied to a chair somewhere), to even get the paper for him…
Now I gotta tell ya, seeing my 5 year old Son’s excitement to show me his drawing skills on that paper earlier. Had diffused my frustration for his actions on the wall pretty quickly. And it literally melted my heart to a puddle when I saw how sad he was, when he saw how disappointed I was, about the mess he’d made on the wall… He just wanted to draw like Daddy – be like me – and make me proud of him…
Well, I knew I had to do something to teach him not to draw on the walls. But his little heart was so broken because of disappointing me, I knew he would never do it again. So I held him on my lap as he sobbed, wiped the tears from his chubby little cheeks, and told him how proud I was of how good he was learning to draw. He laid his little head on my shoulder and said “I’m sowwy daddy” – “I won’t do it again.”
I told him to ask Momma for some paper next time, and let him down to play again. Then I rushed off to my office upstairs. Fighting back my own tears with every tread that I climbed...
Sitting at my study desk with my head in my hands. I suddenly noticed my Son’s Crayon Star drawing lying on my desk in front of me. As I sat there staring at it. I started to think about all the times I’d “made a mess on the wall of my Heavenly Daddy’s Toy Room”… Sometimes I’d see someone who looked lost and confused, right there in front of me, and think: “hey, I can practice being like Jesus, so God can be proud of me”. But when my efforts backfired, and they got more confused or lost from my inexperienced guidance, it broke my heart to think that I might have disappointed my Heavenly Daddy instead of making Him proud of me too...
As I sat there with tears trickling down my face, a calming started to come over me. And I swear I could feel His hand gently rubbing my back, as He whispered: “shhhh – I am proud of how hard you’re trying to be like Me.”- “and even when you make a mess on the wall” – “I still love you - sooooo very much.”
My Son was only 5 years old when he drew that Crayon Star for me, and I was just 28…. In August, 2016, he will be 40 years old, and I'll be 63… No matter what kind of messes he’s ever made in these 35 years, and even those that might still be to come, I’ll always be ready to hug him – tell him how proud I am of him - and how very much I love him, every - single - chance I get… Because THAT’S what my Heavenly Daddy has done to me in these same 35 years. And I know He will always be there to hug me….
It’s sort of ironic. Here I sit at my study desk, with my head in my hands, tears trickling down my face yet again, 35 years later as I share this story with you. Because I remember what Father God taught me that day about His love for me as well…
Still to this day, if I'll just take the time to climb into His lap and sob on his shoulder when I need too. I can feel His warm embrace and hand on my back. And when I listen closely. I can hear Him gently saying: “shhhh – I am proud of how hard you’re trying to be like me” – “and even when you make a mess” – “I will always love you, soooo very much.”-----
Oh if we could only catch hold of just how very much our Heavenly Daddy really loves us. No matter how many times we made a mess on His Toy Room walls – We wouldn’t get so easily discouraged - We’d always keep trying to be like Him - We’d never stop trying to please Him –--------------------------------- And we’d just keep drawing Crayon Stars …………
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