Appalachian Disciple

“But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: ‘Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.’” Isaiah 43:1

Last summer* God gave me an object lesson through Nyliah, a nice, little girl down the street. She spent a lot of time at our house that summer — hours upon hours — staying for meals and snacks, although she didn’t play that much with my children.  She just seemed to like hanging out in our house, often talking to me.

She’s a smart girl, a good reader with a scientific mind.  I’ll bet she does very well in school.  And she is always well-behaved and polite when she visits.  In fact, one evening I was putting dinner on the table and issuing orders:  “Turn off the TV!  Stop the game!  Wash your hands!  Come to the table!” and she was the only one to obey at first.  Slowly, after repeated demands, my own three children ambled toward the bathroom to wash their hands, and Nyliah asked, “Do they always do that?” 

“Do what?” I asked, distracted by sorting out the drinks.  “Not do what you say,”  she answered.  Ouch!  But after a moment of thought, I had to concede, “Pretty much.”  Now I was really distracted, musing on my failed parenting, when Nyliah said something that struck me as odd:  “I would always do what you say.”  As dinner progressed, she made a few other subtle comments that seemed to indicate that she thought she could be my daughter, and a better one.

Nyliah has a nice home and family as far as I can tell — with father, mother, sisters, brother, pets — even cousins and grandparents who visit often.  I don’t know what drove these comments, but the fact, of course, is that Nyliah is not my daughter nor will she ever be.  I have a daughter, and despite her unruliness, she is precious to me.

It was months later that the Holy Spirit brought this conversation back to me and replayed it over and over in my mind.  “There’s a lesson for you here…” he seemed to say.  At that point, I’d say I felt like a disappointment to God — an unruly daughter, if you will — not quick to obey, and somewhat distant.  And yet what is the nature of the parent-child relationship?  I pondered the Scriptures where God makes it clear that we are to think of Him as Father, and ourselves as His children.  Truth is, I could not earn my way into God’s family or His love any more than Nyliah could earn entrance into mine with her polite obedience.  But it’s more than that…

Isabel is my daughter.  I remember the night she was conceived; I birthed her into this world; I named her; I fed her from my own body.  She became unalterably mine, and my commitment to her is total.  For her sake, many times, I have lost sleep, lost face, lost arguments.  I have given and given and given again.  She is not yet all that she will be — she is in process — and my hopes for her are high.  God forbid that I would give her up or give up on our relationship because of disobedience on her part!  No, my mercies have to be new every morning, and my discipline has to continue for her good.  I have known her.  She is mine.  Sound familiar? 

There is history and heritage in a healthy family — each child represents so much more than they could understand.  They are priceless because of love and dreams that preceded their birth by many years.  Nyliah’s good manners could never compete with that.

On a grander and far more glorious scale, I cannot even begin to understand what I represent to God, but His claim and call on me are not flippant or accidental.  He knows me, having chosen me before the beginning of time (Eph. 1:4), birthed me with purpose (John 1:12-13, Phil. 2:13) and committed Himself to my upbringing (Phil. 1:6).  I will do everything in my power to help Isabel live the life God designed for her, but my power is scant.  What I need to focus on is that God does everything in His power to bring His kids to maturity.  To belong to Him, to bear His name, to be part of His family — these are concepts I could only nod at with cursory understanding, until God lent me a family of my own.

*2007