Josiah, my oldest boy of three years, was almost potty trained. But we were leaving chick-fil-a the other day and he started whining as he reached behind himself to grab his hiney. i know that reach. i recognize those eyes. I’m familiar with that vein in the forehead. so we bolted for the bathroom. we entered into the bathroom stall to do the deed.
Funny thing . . . I don’t remember the back of his spidey-underoos having a lump.
Josiah was whining and near tears. I was whining and near tears. he was circling around the stall like a nervous chihuahua while I was chasing him and trying to take care of his business. It was not a pretty sight. I had to have him assume the position and clean him up. it was beautifully disgusting.
Then i started laughing. Josiah started laughing. There we were, spidey-underoos at his ankles, daddy with toilet paper in one hand and covering his nose with the other just. . . laughing. Poopy before us, beneath us, above us, around us, and we’re laughing. He said, “dadddddddyyyyyy. it funny, it’nt daddy. it funnnnnyyyy.” it was a holy moment. i’m not kidding. a holy moment. my son and i. Just him and me. In the mess. Poopy, tears, and joy.
Messes, tears, and joy–sounds a lot like a life with Jesus.
I’m a mess inside. I’ve made messes of my life.. I’ve caused messes in people’s lives. I still make messes. I just mask it better. You?
But God enters into my mess and messes. And He always will. Same with you.
Tears come… and they go. His joy never ends. Same for you.
i told a friend about this worship moment i had with Josiah. He looked at me as if i’d told him i was a chicken nugget. I don’t expect him to understand, really. nor can anyone understand the love of a God to become man and enter into . . .our mess.
i will tuck that moment with Josiah into a special place within me. Not sure you can really relate to that or not. That’s okay. But for what it’s worth I’ll give you this little jewel to pocket away until needed:
Beware of lumpy underoos.