As we all began pitching in and sorting through this stack of toys, I happened upon an old book that I used to read to my daughter when she was very young. You may have heard of it, the title is 'Eight Silly Monkeys.' I was glad that we had established the rule that no books were to be disposed of prior to the clean out. We would save this one for sure. It wasn't necessarily a profound book, but just a kids' story about some animals jumping up and down on a bed; one by one they accidentally fell off. by the end of the book, there is no one left on the bed. This wasn't rocket science, but it was entertaining nonetheless.
I was prepared to sit down and sort toys that day, but I wasn't ready for the rush of memories and emotions that this book elicited within me. I was instantly transported back in time to my daughter's old bedroom from our house back in Des Moines, and I could even picture the rocking chair that my wife and I used to sit in when reading to the kids.
I bottled up my emotions however, and filed the book away on a shelf for later; but the damage was already done. I wasn't myself the rest of the day.
It reminds me of how the Bible describes the way in which God knows us. Psalm 139:13 tells us that He "created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb." What a wonderful way to teach us how intimately God knows His creation. Stop and imagine for a moment, that there is a being out there that knew you before you were born. A being who 'knitted' you together, had hopes and plans for you, and wanted very much to watch you grow up. This sounds a lot like a good parent, but in fact much better.
I remember very much having this same type of excitement when all three of my kids were born. On each occasion, it was a time full of complete humbleness over the vast expanse of God's goodness at allowing me to be part of something so important. And now here I was looking at a book about Monkeys, and the fifteen years that my beautiful little girl has been on this planet all came rushing in. It was an emotional roller-coaster to say the least, for both my wife and I.
In fact, to really know someone well, I believe it helps to be part of their childhood in some way. To be part of their development and growing process from day one. If we return to the book of Psalms for a moment, chapter 121 and verse 8 says, "the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forever more."
Does God metaphorically sort through our old toys from time to time I wonder? I suspect that this is how He feels about our personal prayers sometimes. I see an image of a refrigerator door somewhere in Heaven, covered with small pieces of paper - all scribbled with children's hand-writing. One note asks for a particular toy for Christmas perhaps. Another might request a healing for a friend or acquaintance.
But there is a special corner of the door reserved for notes that simply express a raw, unabashed love for the Father. A group of tattered notes and letters that were written to God not to ask for something, but rather only to tell him I love you.
Meanwhile I continue on in our back room, sorting toys and separating out our old books. Things don't go any better for me as time went on. The mental image of the refrigerator door is now becoming overrun with handwritten notes. We had better break for lunch... time to rest and regroup a bit.
As the day began to wind down and the toy pile continued to shrink, I noticed it was almost time for the ball to drop in Times Square. An age-old ushering in of the New Year. But one more thought sprang to mind. It was more of an assurance actually. It was the idea that to our creator, we are both children and adults at the same time. If God is outside of normal time and space, then why couldn't He look at each person not only as they currently are ... but as they used to be, and also as they will be? All at the same time. After all, God is not subject to months and years the same way you and I are. Maybe He can see everything all at once.
Why should this supernatural ability to perceive and observe us in such an omniscient way matter? Because if this is true, then I think it would also follow (though now we are simply chewing over my opinion) that He could look back on our entire life and simply love us for who we are at any stage of our development. We should allow this all-encompassing joy to seep into our very souls I think, as it means that God is able to accept everyone and love them just for who they are. To love them equally across the whole span of time: when they were a small child, and then a teenager, and finally an adult. Our prayers mean just as much to Him, no matter if we are "all grown up" or not. Even if some don't make it to adulthood at all.
The excitement of the New Year begins to abate back at home, as I announce to the kids that bedtime has arrived. We will be tired the next day, as everyone stayed up until midnight.
I secretly wonder to myself as I tuck in the boys, if God also has a bookshelf somewhere with a copy of 'Eight Little Monkeys' on it. Is this silly? Should I know better than to entertain simplistic ideas like this? I have no idea really, but it is just my own thoughts now, so I go with it.
I don't care of course if it is silly or not, and neither does He. It is my bookshelf, and it is between Him and me. I hope He looks at it every once in a while. I hope also that His spot for me on the refrigerator door is overrun with notes.
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