Blessings

I caught a glimpse of the kingdom of God tonight. Ivan told me he loved me.

He was getting ready to leave church so I yelled bye and he turned, looked at me and started sprinting from halfway across the church at me. Right into my arms. I scooped him up and pulled him in close, giving him an extra long hug because tonight was a rough one for him.

Ivan's home life is pretty bad. Without going into too much detail, it is suffice to say that it is not a positive environment to raise a child. My guess is that no one tells him that he can do something or "good job!" or "I'm really proud of you" or even "I love you". So tonight when there were so many people encouraging him to try something new or "you can do it", he got overwhelmed and shut down. There was this specific moment, that I can still picture so vividly, where the basketball coach was encouraging and asking Ivan to come play. Ivan said, "no, no, I don't want to; I don't want to; no, no, no." The coach pushed until Ivan, in this state of raw panic cried out, "NO! I can't. I don't know how! I can't!" and buried his head in Dan's lap. Terror and confusion were engraved on Ivan's face as if to say, "who are you to tell me that I can do this? I'm not good enough. I can't, remember?" That look tore my innermost being and screamed at me.

All my development classes/any class having to do with kids have stressed the fact that much of our self-esteem is intact by the time we are three and that the most effective way to teach and help a child grow is by encouraging and praising a child. When Ivan reached that breaking point where the only response left is the core of who you are, the self you carry around and don't let others see, what came out was "I can't. I'm not good enough."

Needless to say we all tried to cheer Ivan up by making faces, joking, (I told him I needed a hug), and talking with him in Spanish (his first language). Slowly, the Ivan we know and love came back and by the end of the night, everything seemed normal. Till it was time to go home.

As I'm holding Ivan, giving him this extra squeeze, he leans in my ear and whispers, "I love you." I pull him back so we are face to face, look him straight in the eye and tell him," I love you too, Ivan." He pauses, gives me this giant smile, buries his face in my neck and whispers, "I love you so so much." One more squeeze just for good measure and I put him down and he's out the door like only boys can do.

The kingdom of God broke through the tattered pieces and hopelessness of this world. Ivan was able to feel Christ's love through my arms and know that he is good enough. He is worth it. He is loved. Not just by us that he can see, because we won't be here forever, but more importantly by his Father who died because Ivan is worth it.

Oh God that we may learn to live out your kingdom to those who don't think they can do it. Who don't believe they know how. Thank you, Lord, for shining through and reminding me again what a blessing it is to follow and obey you. Thank you for loving me even when I don't think I can handle the situation or don't know how to live a holy life or just don't know why anyone would give me the time of day. May I continue to be humbled and showered in your love so that those around me may catch more and more glimpses of you and your kingdom.

Oh yeah. Ivan is in kindergarten. He just learned his shapes. He turns five in a few weeks.