When my daughter was a baby she napped in a crib in her upstairs bedroom, painted pink and stenciled with bunnies. One day, after she had woken from her nap, I picked up my sweet baby girl and started carrying her down the stairs. And then I slipped and fell.
I was in pain, the seeing-stars-I’m-afraid-to-move-and-find-out-I’ve-broken-something kind of pain. While I was trying to figure out how badly I’d battered and bruised myself, my daughter cried out in pain of her own. She had a rash on her chin, received from having been dragged down the carpeted stairs. Her eyes bore a look of utter betrayal as if asking me, “How could you do this to me, my own mother?”
The pain I felt paled in comparison to the ache of knowing I’d caused harm to my daughter. It wasn’t intentional, but I felt responsible nonetheless. I had failed my child, the one who looked tome for security, protection, and love.
My pastor has been preaching a series of sermons on the life of David. Last week he highlighted an episode in which David failed to protect his family. While on the run from King Saul, David took his family and hid out in Ziklag in the land of the Philistines. He even assisted the Philistines by participating in their raids against the Amalekites, Girzites, and other desert tribes. Saul didn’t pursue David while he lived among the Philistines, and he and his family remained there in relative safety for over a year.
Some of the Philistine commanders grew nervous, however, about taking David into battle with them. David was an Israelite, an enemy of the Philistines, and the commanders questioned his loyalty. David was dismissed from the ranks of marauding Philistines and sent home to Ziklag. Upon arriving home, he learned that the Amalekites had raided the village and carried all its wives and children into captivity.
While David was off doing battle with the Philistines, he left his family unprotected and open to harm.
Then David and the people who were with him raised their voices and wept until they had no more strength to weep.I Samuel 30:4, ESV
I’ve wept too; in the knowledge that my actions have caused harm to those I love. I’d like to say that dragging my daughter down the stairs was my one and only act of disappointment, but that’s not true. I’ve made careless decisions, some of which were outright self-centered and sinful. I’ve responded in frustration and anger rather than in love.
Leaning on conventional parenting wisdom I repeatedly grounded one child and generally made life miserable in an ongoing battle over schoolwork. The problem with leaning on conventional wisdom, however, was that it blinded me from seeking God’s wisdom and recognizing my child’s learning disability. That thing God said about not leaning on one’s own understanding? Turns out God intends those words for parents. Turns out, he intends them for me.
Nobody around here is getting nominated for mother-of-the-year any time soon.
I wounded my child with angry words, through my lack of patience and understanding. I grieve my actions and have wept bitterly. I am tempted to curl up into a ball and declare my utter worthlessness as a parent. But that’s not what David did:
. . . David strengthened himself in the LORD his God.I Samuel 30:6, ESV
God doesn’t cast aside those who fail, those who disappoint. The Lord met David in his sorrow and strengthened him. My pastor directed us to these words, written by David in Psalm 25:
according to your steadfast love remember me,
for the sake of your goodness, O LORD!
therefore he instructs sinners in the way.
He leads the humble in what is right,
and teaches the humble his way.
This account of David ends well; he gets his family back. My daughter’s chin healed, and I doubt she even remembers the day I dragged her down the stairs. But not all stories end well, at least not on this side of eternity. My actions may cause wounds which run deep, resulting in scars that last a lifetime. Who knows whether David’s wives and children were haunted by recurring nightmares after being captured by ancient marauding tribes? Scripture is silent on this point, and I believe it’s wise not to speculate when scripture is silent.
But this passage offers hope. It reminds me that God is the one who rescues and delivers from all harm, even the harm caused by my carelessness and sin. So I ask his forgiveness and pray for healing. I need passages like this to remind me that God doesn’t give up on me, even when I’m undone by my failures. He forgives and strengthens the mother who cries bitter tears.
Honored to have this post included in the December, 2011, round up of featured posts at The High Calling, selected by David Rupert at Red Letter Believers.
Linking with Michelle @ Graceful:
