So much of my life looks like me trying to do something that I think will be good or helpful  and proceeding to make things more difficult. (Like last week when I hit the garage door opener right after Mark had hit it. I thought I had opened it… when really I had closed it. Or when I tried to be helpful and accidentally threw away the vacuum filter.) I think God allows that to happen over and over to show me how much greater He is and to remind me that I cannot do anything “good” apart Him. Sometimes seeing life through the eyes of children really helps me see how God views His children. So much grace. So many times walking through the same situation and still not getting it right the next time. Still so much grace. These kids teach me so much more than I teach them.

All that to say. I wanted to write this down before I forget. After many attempts at finding a solid children’s Bible that I could read with the kids, I found one on the Hamlin’s shelf that a sweet friend had given to Luke on Mother’s Day last year. The very first time we read it together I was blown away by God’s love and mercy… and so thankful for our friend’s kindness to Luke, Liv and Ella to get them this treasure book. Today, once again, as the kids were eating their toast and listening to me read, I was stopped in my tracks by the simplicity and overwhelming beauty of the Gospel. I wanted to share this sweet little passage from the Jesus Storybook Bible because it is just too lovely not to share.

It was a passage about Isaiah and in the story it talked about a letter God sent through Isaiah’s hands to his people.

“Dear little flock,
You are all wandering away from me, like sheep in an open field. You have always been running away from me and now you are lost. You can’t find your way back. But I can’t stop loving you. I will come to find you. So I am sending you a Shepherd to look after you and love you. To carry you home to me.

You’ve been stumbling around, like people in a dark room. But into the darkness a bright light will shine! It will chase away all the shadows, like sunshine. A little baby will be born. A royal son. His mommy will be a young girl who doesn’t have a husband. His name will be Emmanuel, which means ‘God has come to live with us’. He is one of King David’s children’s children’s children. The Prince of Peace. Yes, someone is going to come to rescue you! But He won’t be who anyone expects.

He will be a King but he won’t live in a palace. And he won’t have lots of money. He will be poor. And he will be a servant. But this king will heal the whole world. He will be a hero! He will fight for his people. He will rescue them from their enemies. But he won’t have big armies and he won’t fight with swords. He will make blind people see, he will make the lame leap like deer! He will make everything the way it was always meant to be. But people will hate him and they won’t listen to him. He will be like a lamb and he will suffer and die. It’s the secret rescue plan we made from before the beginning of the world. It is the only way to get you back!

But he won’t stay dead! I will make him alive again! And one day, when he comes back to rule forever, the mountains and trees will sing and dance for joy. The earth will shout out loud! His fame will fill the whole earth – as the waters cover the sea! Everything sad will come untrue. Even death is going to die! And he will wipe away every tear from every eye. Yes, the Rescuer will come. Look for Him. Watch for Him. Wait for Him. He will come! I promise.”

What a promise. I stopped reading and looked across the table. Livie had taken a break from wiping snot on her cheeks and she sat staring at me and Luke had set down his strawberry toast and was just sitting there quietly. I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment as I sat there, looking into their tiny faces, as they listened to God’s promise to make everything sad come untrue someday. Promising that one day, the sunshine pouring through the windows will always stay. There will be no more dark, scary, sad, cold, bitter days. We talked about the future, when Jesus comes back, when their family will be whole, and when the whole earth will sing for joy. And so we look. We watch and we wait. He will come. He promised!

Until then, we continue to wipe snot, close the garage door when it’s meant to be opened, sort out fights about who gets to hold the empty toilet paper roll, and laugh into our milk to make bubbles.