Children

Why and how does God pick the children to send to us? This is all rambling speculation, of course. Who would dare think such a thing and hope to know for sure. There is my disclaimer. Now, permit this foolish mind to wander. As you very well know, children come in all sorts of sizes, shapes, and personalities. No two are alike. We place our order for the normal sort and hope for the best. But, alas, some funny things happen on the way to the forum. One of my favorite songs reflecting this truth is taken from the stage play, “The Majestics.” Two neighbors commiserate about their children and the one who loves to garden complains, “You plant peas, you get peas; you plant carrots, you get carrots, but with children, you never know what you are going to get.” True, they do end up looking like various elements of the family tree with noses and eyes, ears and toes, hair and skin that reflect everyone from dad to a maternal great grandmother. But after that, the reflection pales quickly. Engineer types end up with budding artists, farmers beget physicists, teachers give birth to future plumbers, and neat freaks awake with horror at the presence of a complete litterbug in their family nest.

There is the heart and soul of my question. Is God in charge of picking out and sending us these un-returnable gifts that we cannot possibly let go of but that turn our carefully arranged worlds upside down? Now even I know that there are some limits to be observed in picking out gifts for my unique family members at Christmas. My wife does not appreciate the mystery and magic of a power tool. Grandma has no use for a new bowling ball. Our family, like yours, has seen some strange gifts at Christmas time. I got a full-size Pizza Hut delivery sign for the top of my car once. And then there was the flying pig wind catcher for the front lawn. Gift giving is challenging, and I certainly have had my moments of madness in trying to be “appropriate” as much as anyone. I take comfort at the long lines of folks returning things after Christmas knowing that I am not the only one who sometimes gets it wrong. But God surely must know who we are and what would really make us happy. Right? How could He possibly get things so screwed up at times. Was this the child we ordered or had in mind?

I am afraid of the theology that says that it is all mere chance, potluck, a roll of the dice, that brings into our lives such momentous change. Somehow, I can’t quite go there. And yet, how do I make sense of the wondrous packages that arrive in my life that so befuddle me and bring such perplexity to my otherwise comfortable mind? Could it be, oh please, that God knows what we need as well as what would make us happy? Dare I think that He would send a child into my life that would challenge me at my weakest point? I have to admit that He seems to give mates that both attract and challenge one another. I am certainly the better for having married one so unlike myself.

And did not God send His Son into our world in both form and fashion that would shake all of our carefully crafted pre-conceptions of what God would look like in human flesh? He ignored all customary protocols of royalty. He arrived, the embarrassment of a virgin. Shepherds were His heralds and strange foreign stargazers His witnesses. He soon fled, a fugitive of destructive forces He could have crushed with a whisper. And in His life, He was rejected, a man of sorrows, homeless. There was no beauty in Him that we should desire Him. Finally, accused, betrayed, and crushed, He died condemned a criminal. And yet, He was everything we needed. Everything we were not. The best gift ever. May you cherish anew all the gifts given into your life. They are all good, you know. Even the ones you can’t figure out.