September 2009

It was one of those events that define parenthood.  Peter and Alex were fighting, and something needed to be done.  Peter, in my opinion, had been especially tough on his younger brother, and Alex was near the breaking point.  I feared that Alex was going to just give up on his brother and disengage.  I took Peter upstairs and asked him, “What is going on?”  “You are in danger of losing your brother for good.”  The conversation was rather complex, but at the end I began to understand something.  Peter was feeling cut out of the family.  You see, my connection with Alex was never in doubt.  Alex loved baseball, football, and any sport really.  He would regularly come to me and say, “Come on Dad, let’s throw the ball.”  Alex was easy going and, for me, easy to relate to.  Peter, on the other hand, was cut from a different piece of cloth.  Although possessing athletic ability, sports did not interest him much.  He was a science fiction fan, not only reading books and watching TV, but also creating his own worlds.  He would play with Legos, draw pictures and write stories of worlds that existed in his mind.  Well, that left me out.  I was not an artist, and creative writing has never been my strong suit.  As Peter got older, he began to resent my connection with Alex and grieve his lack of relationship with me.  Although his problem was with me, he took it out on Alex.

As my conversation with Peter progressed and I began to understand the problem, I asked Peter two questions, “Peter, do you know that I love you?”  He nodded his head; he knew that I loved him.  I was his father; it was my job to love him.  I had told him of my love many times; it was engrained in his mind.  It was the second question that shocked him, “Do you know that I like you?”  He froze.  This was his fear; that I loved him but did not particularly like him, that I would be just as happy if he were not part of my life.  I told him that I liked him, that I was glad that we were different; that those differences would challenge me and take me places I would otherwise never go.  That conversation was the beginning of a new phase in our relationship.  I do not mean to say that Peter and Alex got along famously after that.  There still were many struggles and conflicts.  But I hope that Peter was able to begin to relax, if just a little more in our relationship because he had heard that not only did I love him, I liked him as well.

Do you know that God loves you?  I am sure that you do.  We have been taught that truth from the moment that we began attending church.  God is love; He loves us.  But does he like us.
In the book The Shack, Papa God often speaks these words, “I am especially fond of that child.”  Papa says it so often that the question is asked, “Is there anyone that you are not fond of?”  After thinking for a while, Papa replies, “None that I can think of.”  I must admit that the concept of God liking me is hard to believe at times, especially when I have not been on my best behavior.  Love me, sure, but he has to do that, but not like me.  Yet the Bible tells me that God delights in me, that He can’t wait for me to speak to him, that He earnestly desires to commune with me. 

Can you believe that God is especially fond of you?  When you pray can you believe that he listens to you with the excited ears of a long lost friend?  That when you don’t talk to Him, he misses you?  To miss this fact will place you where Peter found himself; unsure of his place with his father and trying to improve his position by knocking off those ahead of him.  Because God loves and likes us, we can rest, and extend our love and His love to those around us.