"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" Jeremiah 29:11
In the hallway between my two oldest sons' bedrooms, I have a picture. It appears to be the hands of an adult male wrapped around the hands of a small child whose head is bowed in prayer. To the right of the picture is the verse above. I see that picture everyday, and often am struck that God, the God of the universe, has a plan for each of my boys... they weren't accidents or mistakes. They are divinely appointed creations of a merciful and loving Father.
And some days when I see that picture, I look up to Heaven and say "REALLY, GOD?!" I love clean. I love tranquility. I love rules, order, and discipline. I love organization and calm and and structure. And God made me... I would also argue, He made me this way. And that verse applies to me as well - He knows the plans He has for me. And in His divine, omnipotent, omniscient wisdom... he gave me THREE sons.
Sometimes I think He did this just for the comic value in watching me run around like a headless chicken trying in vain to suck up every grain of dirt with the Dustbuster, while simultaneously wiping the finger prints off the stainless steel appliances, en route to the bedroom with an armful of errant toys who somehow escaped from their assigned rooms, as I yell across the room "no shoes on the carpet" to one and "don't forget to wash your hands" to the other as he emerges from the restroom.
And the older my boys get, the funnier this scene must be.
Some kids collect baseball cards or action figures. Mine collect rocks, leafs, and all manner of other things that God put on this earth OUTSIDE of the home, with (in my humble opinion) no intention of having them cross the threshold. Some kids bring home stray animals. I am pleased my children don't do this as (you can imagine) an animal would not mesh well with my cleanliness rules. However, what my children DO collect is stray children.
My seven-year-old actually went door-to-door in the neighborhood looking for kids. And, when he found them, he brought them all home with him - complete with shoes on the carpet, rocks in their pockets, and that special puppy-dog smell that is exclusive to little boys who've been playing outside!
Good, former-military officer that I am, I stop them all in their tracks for the inprocessing briefing! Shoes lined up by the wall in the foyer, no food away from the table, no drinks out of the kitchen, no troop-movement among the assigned toys (each must remain with the unit they are stationed with -- in other words, they don't leave their rooms). But, I always find a rule I should have briefed: doors are used for passing through and nothing more (exterior doors only open for personnel movements, interior doors remain open, we do not play with doors); light sabers are for outside (these are an exception to the toy troop-movement restrictions); karate IS NOT practiced inside; we do not have pillow fights (this includes: using pillows as shields, "touching" with a pillow, and even "but we weren't fighting, we were playing nice!"); hands must be washed after bathroom, before eating, and after outside; we never touch the walls (WHY do children need to touch walls?); trash goes (GASP) in the trashcan; hand towels should be replaced on hooks after hand washing; we ask to be excused from the dinner table; you eat what you get or you wait for the next meal; and the list goes on and on...
An afternoon play date can take more out of me physically and mentally than a short tour in the desert. If given the option, I might choose the latter!
And yet, knowing this... knowing this is who I am... God also knows the plans He has for me... and He has blessed my home with three precious little boys who I love more than anything in the world.
So, okay God... I trust you, and even if this part of your plan is purely based on entertainment value, I know you have plans for these young men. I just pray that you be patient and guide me as I guide them, show me when and where to give, and let them emerge from this upbringing unscathed by all the restrictions and procedures.
And P.S. Lord, please help me find a product to get the puppy-dog smell out of the carpet and couch!
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