This is a boy about 6 years old tattered and worn, and not just his clothes. He will most likely hate that I am writing what I am about to write, but son, this for playing paper football with your dinner plate all those years! You owe me one! This boy! Those of you who have known us through the ups and downs of raising this child know exactly where this is going. This picture was taken without planning it. The clothes he is wearing were clothes he would never take off because he refused to wear anything else. He was defiant, rebellious, fearful....wracked with fear and debilitatingly shy. He was angry and often showed it. I mean...often. Oh he laughed and he had fun, but mostly he was difficult! His hair was long too because he refused to cut it. He wore those clothes until the cuffs came off and pants were too short and I had to basically tear them off his body. So, while we were at a photographer getting other pictures done, he was sitting there brooding in his favorite outfit. I asked the photographer to take his picture so we would remember. See, I knew that God's promises were true. I knew that one day God would grab his heart and shake him up a bit. So I wanted to remember what he looked like during this dark time. During this period of time, we got a lot of slack for many things we were doing. I don't say this to make anyone feel bad because in all honesty, if I were looking at this situation from the outside, I may have thought or said the same things. I still hear some things now and again about how "I don't want my kid to be how he was". In truth, aren't we all sinners? Our hearts are wretched things. But it was partly through Mikey that God taught us what His grace really meant. We spanked like we were taught...that backfired quickly into something we never ever wanted to happen again. We yelled...oh man did we yell. Poor kid. We sat in his room and took every last thing away until he even handed us his blanky!!!! stubborn little booger! I remember one time, sitting in his room against the door while he threw everything he could get his hands on and I just prayed grace over him. I prayed that I would understand what grace meant...truly meant. And, really it meant letting it go! It meant not striving to fix him. He belonged to my Father and not to me. I could not make him obey so I let go of some things that just didn't matter. He grew his hair out and he wore his tattered clothes and it became a picture of who we were. Broken sinners in need of a mighty Savior, a Savior who was the ONLY one who could put the little boy and his tattered and worn parents back together. He wore winter boots with shorts all summer and he didn't wear short sleeves until the 5th grade. Maybe 6th! One thing we did do was preach the Gospel to ourselves and to him, reminding him that even though he would often say he could never do anything right because he was always in trouble...it didn't matter, God loved him just like that. We couldn't change his behavior, we tried and failed miserably. We simply were praying that God would change his heart. So we kept telling him over and over and over that even in his sin, Jesus died for him. While he threw punches at his father, he would tell him, "son I love you". See, he was fighting not our love, but a much bigger love that was wrestling for his little heart. And going back to that day at the photographer and that picture and the sense that one day....
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that same boy turns 14 tomorrow and God is capturing his heart. He has grown up to be a leader among peers, learning to serve his family; faithfully and carefully knowing when his heart is wrong. He has a mind that absorbs the Gospel and a heart that hears, and it goes down deep. Does he still have a temper? Just ask his sisters!! We thank God for this boy and all we have learned raising him. We wouldn't go back and change one moment with him, and we can't wait to see all that God does in and through him in the next stages of his life. Happy 14th Michael!
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