I try to be a patient father, but there are things my boys can do that drive me crazy. One of those is whining. I hate it; I can barely put up with it. Even yesterday, little Trevan was getting over a virus, and, good Lord, was he up and down. One minute, full of spunk and energy, the next clinging to my leg and whining, or refusing to eat something I knew he would love, “But I don’t like it.”
“You haven’t tried it! Try it, trust me. Trust me, Trevan!” But at that moment he didn’t trust me, not about this. It all finally ended with him crying in his room and me brushing my teeth and muttering.
Eventually, he quieted down, and I went in. “Are you done, then?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Done whining?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Okay, then you can come out.” And I began walking away.
But then I heard his voice behind me asking, “Daddy?” And he was holding his arms out. “Will you give me a hug?”
His question was real; he wasn’t completely sure; he didn’t know that I would stoop to hug him. It was a risk he was taking, risking his heart on me. Maybe he didn’t trust me on the food thing, but he had enough need, enough trust, and enough faith to risk that I still loved him anyway, enough to forgive and comfort him. If he didn’t have enough faith in me as his father, he wouldn’t have asked. It takes faith to ask.
Trusting and inviting Jesus to be a larger part in or to work through our lives is a step of faith. Letting go of our own mistakes and guilt, admitting them and letting them go is relying on faith. Just lifting our arms to him is an act of faith. It means risking your heart with God. Letting go of what others may have done to us, depends again, not on knowledge, but faith. Inviting God to change us from within is an act of faith. And he will pick us up, even when we don't immediately feel it.
