Aaron has recently been fixated on planets and stars and space and seeing pictures of all the above. And when I say fixated, I am not speaking of a casual interest on Aaron’s part. Aaron latches on to his current fixation like a tick on a dog. He does not let go easily, and nothing deters him from researching every little minute detail of said fixation.
He loves to include us in his latest quest for information, which means two things. First, we must often look up something on the internet with him that he just MUST share. Google is our friend.
Second, we must listen to Aaron talk and talk and talk and talk some more about all the facts he has learned. He just knows that we will be as dumbfounded as he is about his latest find.
He really, really wants us to care as much as he cares.
Yesterday evening, then, found Aaron and I sitting on the couch together listening to Louie Giglio’s famous video, Indescribable. It wasn’t AS full of planets and stars as he wanted, but it did contain some sounds from outer space that Aaron loved. Aaron was particularly interested in the sounds that planets and stars make, so he was very happy to hear that part of Giglio’s sermon.
All in all, the video was a wonderful reminder of God’s astounding creation of the universe. Aaron and I both loved all the breathtaking pictures of stars and galaxies.
After we were finished, I was in the kitchen lowering the blinds when I hit my elbow on the back of a chair. I didn’t just hit my elbow. I whacked it good! The pain shot down my arm as I grabbed my elbow and bent over. Aaron, who was standing nearby talking, kept talking until he noticed my obvious pain. Then he wanted to know what had happened, in detail.
I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to be left alone until the pain stopped. So I briefly answered Aaron’s question about my elbow and moved to another room.
“Mom!!” Aaron exclaimed, “you act like you don’t want me to talk! I’m just trying to care!”
Well, that stopped me in my tracks. I removed the arrow from my heart as I walked back to Aaron and thanked him for caring. I tried to explain how the pain made me not want to talk as I let him know that I appreciated his concern.
This morning I continued reading slowly through the Psalm I am studying…Psalm 8. The verses I was to read today were these:
When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars, which You have ordained;
What is man that You take thought of Him, and the son of man that You care for him? (Psalm 8:3-4)
These verses fit perfectly with all our talk here lately about space and planets and stars. Well, Aaron’s talk about space and planets and stars. Gary and I primarily listen.
Anyway, I just sat and looked at verse 4. Who am I, God, that you care for me?
And I thought of Aaron’s comment from the night before as I got irritated because of my pain.
“I’m just trying to care!”
In my pain, I didn’t want to listen to Aaron…but he was trying to care.
It hurt him for me to not recognize that.
And I also thought of God and how much He cares. God…Who created all the vast universe…cares about me?
Yes, He does.
I love that thought on most days, but when life isn’t going as I want…when I am in pain because of situations that hurt…I sometimes don’t exactly want to listen to God.
But then I hear God speak in verses like I read this morning and I am stopped in my tracks. Humbled. And so very thankful.
Like David, when I compare myself to the vastness of the far reaches of our universe, I am insignificant…a mere tiny speck. But God cares…for me?
I love what Dale Davis says: “Only the condescension of God can hold together astronomical vastness and individual concern.”
God condescends in order to hold together His vast universe, but He also condescends to me out of His care for me. God loves me. ME! I don’t know and can’t explain why He loves me, but I know that He does.
Who am I that God would love me? Why does God care?
Davis again says: “Why should a mere speck of dust on the light years of God’s calendar matter to Him? David at least has no doubt that he does matter; he’s just baffled to bits over why. When he says, ‘What is man?’, he is not asking a question but making an exclamation – he is really saying, ‘What a God!’ He is not posing a mental teaser; he is engaging in breathless praise.”
I didn’t want to talk to Aaron when I was in pain. Likewise, I often don’t want to hear from or talk to God when my heart hurts, when life isn’t fair, when my world crumbles.
But He doesn’t quit caring. And I know that He has a purpose for my pain…a purpose that is for my good in the long run.
So may I, even through pain, give breathless praise to God for His thoughts of me and His care for me.