Daddy Fix It
Nathan knows a whole slew of new words these days. He speaks sentences and sometimes they are even grammatical correct. He now knows that when something isn’t working we sometimes say, “It’s broken.” That has become Nathan’s phrase for everything that is messed up. If his shoe is coming off he says, “It’s broken.” If the TV won’t turn on he says, “It’s broken.” Then there are the many things that really are broken: a piece falls off his toy car, the cookie he is eating falls to pieces, the toy he was beating on the ground erupts in a shower of parts.
When these things happen he inevitably says “It’s broken” followed by the almost as guaranteed follow up line, “Daddy fix it,” while he holds up the pieces to me. Sometimes Daddy can fix it. Some times it is as easy as adjusting a strap or popping a piece back on. Sometimes Daddy can’t fix it. I can’t put a cracker back together; I can’t meld plastic with my eyes. Sometimes things really are broken even beyond Daddy’s ability to repair.
There are limits to what I can do. As Nathan grows he will learn that even Daddy can’t do everything. But there is something I know that I hope Nathan can learn as well: there is nothing that God can’t do. As I have watched Nathan bring me the wreckage of his play and watched the confidence in his eyes when he tells me to fix it I have learned a thing or two about my heavenly father.
1) I do not have the kind of faith in God that Nathan has in me. Plain and simple. Nathan trusts me completely. He may not always do what I say, but he has faith in me that puts my faith in God to shame. He never question whether or not I have the power to fix anything. (Which leads to some tense moments when daddy can’t fix it and Nathan feels like I am just choosing not to help him)
2) Sometimes I show Nathan how to fix things on his own. As he grows I want him to be able to handle more and more on his own. I want him to learn to be the one to fix things sometimes. Having a son has taught me so much about God’s desire for us not to stay as children, but to mature. Sometimes God lets me have a hand at fixing things because (and here is the crazy part) God doesn’t want us to just be his children. He wants us to be his friends, so he helps us to mature.
I don’t understand everything that God does just like I bet Nathan doesn’t always understand me. But I do hope that one day I will be able to have the faith in my life that when something is messed up my first thought is to ask daddy to fix it instead of trying to do it on my own strength.
(PS. My keyboard is messed up as I write this so I stopped half way through to try to fix it. It is still broken, so apparently Nathan’s faith in me is misplaced. At least my faith in God isn’t.)