It was Your right hand and strong arm and the blinding light from Your face that helped them, for You loved them. Psalm 44: 3b

Not Knowing

            "Dram-ma, Dram-ma!" my two-and-a-half-year-old granddaughter, Brenna, calls, running to me with a big smile and wide open arms. She still has trouble with the "gr" blend, so "Grandma" comes out "Dram-ma" (two m's in that, thank you. ahem.) and I just love it. So cute! Of course, this isn't something she's doing wrong intentionally. It's just that, as yet, she has no idea she has something more to learn. As a result, her innocent mispronunciation is precious, endearing.

            Jesus had the same response to these kind of mistakes, and not just to the mistakes of children.

           One day, after blessing a group of children, Jesus started out for Jerusalem. Along the way He encountered a rich man who said that he'd obeyed all the commandments since he was young, and asked what else he must do to inherit eternal life. Looking at the man, Jesus felt genuine love for him (Mark 10:21a). The man just didn't understand and Jesus felt compassion for him.

            Another time, speaking to Simon Peter and the other disciples who proclaimed their loyalty, even unto death, Jesus said, "Simon, Simon!  Satan has asked to sift each of you like wheat. But I have pleaded in prayer for you, Simon, that your faith should not fail. So when you have repented and turned to me again, strengthen your brothers"  (Luke 22: 31-32). I hear such love in these words, such compassion, and especially in "when you have repented and turned to me again." To me, it sounds like Jesus is saying, Peter, you don't know it yet, but you're going to mess up. Big time. But I'm not looking at you in light of that, as if that's all you are. Instead, I'm looking at you in light of who you will become after you understand.

            At the Last Supper, after Judas had already stepped out into the night to betray him, Jesus said to the disciples, Dear children, I will be with you only a little longer. Dear children? These were grown men!  Big burly fishermen, some of them. But by addressing the disciples in this way, Jesus let them (and us) know just how precious they were to Him. Dear, in spite of the fact that they had no idea how much more they had to learn. Or maybe even more dear because they couldn't yet know.

            "Dram-ma, Dram-ma!" my two-and-a-half-year-old granddaughter calls, running to me, and I am delighted. My heart overflows. Would Jesus' response be any different when we, still not knowing what we don't know, run to Him calling out his name?

Daye Phillippo

March, 2015