In a town far away from here, a little boy is dying. For two years, he’s put up a valiant fight. Many who love him and many more who do not even know him have begged the God of Heaven to intervene. To say the ‘yes.’ To spare his life. And yet, after every prayer and every human attempt to heal, the answer appears to be ‘no.’
‘No’ to extended life.
His name is Lincoln. He’s five years old. His spot in the family? Big brother. My god.
As the mother of four sons myself, I am only able to guess at the agony of holding a boy as he suffers. “Every day, my heart walks into your classroom in the shape of a blue-eyed boy with rooster tails. He’ll be wearing blue jeans.” This is the note I would pen to teachers at the start of a new school year. And it was true.
For 29 years and counting, my heart has walked around outside of my body. Every day of those 29 years, my own beating heart has walked and run and jumped and played and stumbled and fallen and felt the arrows that shoot through a child’s heart and land right in yours. Every day.
But this day, another mother’s heart is failing, for her boy is dying.
It was something Lincoln said to his mommy the other day that’s been tickling my brain, stirring around in my mind, and there’s a message in it for us all.
“I can’t wait to meet my God.” That’s what he said out of the clear, blue sky, and my spirit, it leaps at his meaning.
He can’t wait. To meet his God. My God!
In seven words, another mother’s child holds up the light, and two small feet, they lead the way. He can’t wait to meet his God.
Lincoln, you see, isn’t afraid to meet God. He isn’t afraid OF God. In his own childlike way, Lincoln knows the truth: that God is good, that God is kind, that God is loving. He knows that God isn’t angry or mean or “yelly” or scary. And so, Lincoln isn’t afraid.
“My God.” These two, little words carry hope for all who’ve been wounded, for all who’ve gone far astray. For when we know what Lincoln knows, our own hearts quicken to His, and we sink right into His love.
God is a good, kind Father. To the one who’s been wounded, abandoned, neglected, or abused by earthly parents, herein lies such hope. With healing and a bone-deep ‘knowing’ for ourselves this perfect Fatherhood of God, the wounded can find their rest in a loving God. And, at last, long to see him.
Just like Lincoln, who “can’t wait.” Who is trading extended life for eternal life and all its resplendent joys.
Now, you. If you have run far away from a God you thought was a monster, come home. If you’ve quailed in fear before a God you thought was angry, let Him love you. If your wounds have made you skittish, terrified to trust, slip closer. Let Him heal you.
Lincoln’s God can be your God. I know that He is mine. One day, I know that I’ll go meet God, and just like Lincoln, “I can’t wait.”
If you don’t know this God or you are scared to meet Him, I’d love to pray for you. Let me take you by the hand and introduce you to this good and loving God Who’s made us all. Who intends for us, too, this eternal life and all its resplendent joys.
Lincoln, little buddy, your faith is a shining light. You put big smiles on God’s face (I can see it), and He’s excited to see you, too. Somehow, I think that Jesus will say, “Hello, handsome!” when you come running in, and he’ll swoop you up in a great, big Gruffy Bear kind of hug. Then He’ll take you by the hand, and you two will build stuff together. Before you know it, Mommy and Daddy and Little Brother will come, too, and it’ll be the best party ever. See you there!
The photo above was sent to the family by a prayer warrior. What a precious gift.