My two year old son has a specific quality my wife though I should write about; I obviously agree. He is so cute but when I scold him he does something which is beyond cute, its heart melting, and so endearing: he gets a huge quivery lip and heavy knitted brow; he puts his chin down on his chest and rolls his shoulders forward, he has a look of complete dejection and he often whimpers to himself in such a way that it mimics talking to himself. He appears to be hopelessly wrestling with the abandonment thrust upon him by his father. I disintegrate inside.
It is what happens next which makes him my spiritual director. He runs to me, hugs me tightly, and bursts into tears. I console him, I tell him I love him, I stroke his hair, I kiss his cheek, I think only of his peace of mind, of his peace, after all he is a good boy. I don’t tell him what he did is now ok, just the opposite, but I let him know that he is still a good boy and that is why he cannot do what he had just done. Then I hold him until he cheers up or gets distracted, which is usually very quickly, the clouds dissipate and he’s off again.
So often we experience our own lip quivering moment and we run away from God. We assume he isn’t listening or would not listen to us, we may fear his wrath, and we may assume his judgment when inside our Father his heart has melted. He extends his arms to our heels running in the opposite direction and we miss our opportunity to be little ones who hug it out. We miss the opportunity to have our Father assure us that we are not defined by our faults, and so we become defined by our faults, but by the love of God.
It is fitting that my wife encouraged me to write this after she was in adoration of the Eucharist as she has a strong devotion to St Therese and writing this has reminded me of her “elevator to heaven”.
“It is impossible for me to grow up, and so I must bear with myself such as I am with all my imperfections. But I want to seek out a means of going to heaven by a little way, a way that is very straight, very short, and totally new. We are living now in an age of inventions, and we no longer have to take the trouble of climbing stairs, for....an elevator has replaced these very successfully. I wanted to find an elevator which would raise me to Jesus, for I am too small to climb the rough stairway of perfection. I searched, then, in the Scripture for some sign of this elevator, the object of my desires, and I read these words coming from the mouth of Eternal Wisdom: "Whoever is a little one let him come to me." And so I succeeded. I felt I had found what I was looking for...The elevator which must raise me to heaven is in Your arms, O Jesus! And for this I had no need to grow up, but rather I had to remain little and become this more and more. O, my God, You surpassed all my expectation. I want only to sing of Your Mercies.”
Uncanny, I think. St. Therese, pray for us, especially my little spiritual directors!
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