Lessons From Little Ones.

A couple of months ago, we decided to sell our trailer.

We had a couple of showings that didn’t pan out. Then a couple called who were very interested. They came by that evening, had a brief look around, but said they would prefer to come back when it was light. We agreed on a day and time and they were on their way.

When the day arrived, my wife and oldest son (age 5) were at an appointment. I was home with our youngest (age 3) when the couple showed up. I told our youngest, playing in the living room that I was just stepping outside to unlock the trailer for the people.

He said, “okay” and out I went.

I returned quickly, grabbed my coffee and reclined on the couch; watching my son play with puzzles on the floor. Then I remembered that we had a binder with details on the trailer in the kitchen. I got up quickly, grabbed the binder and ran it out to the couple.

They were still poking around in the trailer, contemplating their potential purchase. I briefly explained that the binder contained details on the trailer brakes, refrigerator, heater, etc.

As I got back inside, my son was screaming!

Without taking off my shoes, I ran inside and found him standing where he was playing only minutes earlier.

I picked him up and asked, “What’s wrong son? Are you hurt?“

With a laboured voice from crying so hard, he replied, “I didn’t know where you were!“

I embraced him close as he sobbed, rubbing his back softly.

As I contemplated what had just taken place, I realised that I hadn’t told him where I was going when I left the second time. I assumed he’d remember where I was only 2 minutes prior or that if he didn’t, he’d climb on the couch as usual and look at the window.

Nevertheless, what had taken place for him was, he looked down at his puzzle and looked up, and I was gone.

In his mind, he was lost and abandoned.

I lifted his face and asked him, “Can you show me how to do that puzzle?” He brighten right up, jumped from my lap, excited to show me his puzzle skills.

The couple came back to the house with the keys to the trailer, stating that they would like to take it.

As I reflected on this situation, my mind drifted to our relationship with our Heavenly Father. My son desperately needed to know where I was. Within seconds, fear and loneliness overwhelmed him.

Am I that desperate for my Heavenly Father?

What if I woke up every morning with that kind of desperate urgency for Him and His word? What if I cried out to Him with that kind of desperation, when I couldn’t sense His presence?

How would my life change?

Join the Conversation, Leave Your Thoughts

Have you ever felt lost or abandoned? How did you feel in that moment? Did you start to pray? How did our Heavenly Father answer your desperate cry for help?