My bluebird is a very curious soul, working her way through all that is within her reach, taking cues from her brothers’ daily meanderings. She follows along or at times finds her way through more discovery. I cannot blame her for all her particulars, her peculiarities. She is engrossed in exploring. She’s a scout, looking for new territory to field, her eyes a magnifying glass putting all that her fingers touch through a cycle of inspection. She sorts play doh containers, lines up cars; she displays color pencils and moves them over to another place. She climbs to reach what seems so fun to play with and looks up in wonderment. She frees up flash cards from their bounded rubber bands and lets them fall to their unsorted mess before sprawling herself over.
I cannot fault her. A beautiful disaster, I think. And this may be just how the Lord looks on us, for He must see beauty amongst the mess we find ourselves in.
For He knoweth our frame; he remembereth we are dust. (Psalm 103:14)
In the words of Charles H. Spurgeon in The Treasury of David:
The Lord knows how we are made, for he made us. Our make and build, our constitution and temperament, our prevailing infirmity and most besetting temptation he well perceives, for he searches our inmost nature. He remembereth that we are dust. Made of dust, dust still, and ready to return to dust.
How we forget that we are dust! How we forget from whence we came. And we make so much effort, don’t we, to outdo ourselves mentally and physically. In the process, we certainly forget about others and their capacities and frailties, so much so that we impose ourselves or burdens to heavy for them to bear.
I won’t give my children bags from the grocery that they cannot carry to our front door, lest they stumble and fall. I won’t give my little bluebird baggage that she cannot handle given her own strength.
But isn’t it such a wonder that our Abba Father never overloads us, and never fails to give us strength equal to our day, because He always takes our debility into account when He is assigning us our share.
I thank Him for His compassion towards us. How He pities us when we fail in knowledge, but He teaches us. How he pities us when we are sick, for He comforts us. He pities us when we have offended, for He makes room for us to come to repentance and accept His forgiveness. How he pities us when we are wronged, for He makes a way of victory for us.
There is little we can do for ourselves, our bodies are just weak and brittle, they expire in a short span of time, they decay as the years pass. We are like earthen vessels, like clay. He is the potter and can shape us to what we are able to bear. He knows our frame and how far He can stretch us, heavy or light. And He certainly knows the corruption of our minds, of our flesh and its propensity to sin. Although the Spirit is willing, the flesh is still weak and unkind to our desires to please God in Spirit.
Likewise, we need to pity those that are weak like ourselves. Our children are the weakest of all, they are but just about to take form in the potter’s hands. We ought to delight in the surprise they display, for the discovery is just at its most raw state and they do not know enough of the self-control that the Spirit can impart once He dwells in them.
My little ones, o how they teach me to be flexible in His hands and make room for disaster as it reminds me that I can only depend on Him in those very real moments. How they teach me daily what it means to be weak and in need of His safe direction. How they teach me to love unconditionally.
