C sifts through nearly a rainbow of colored blocks and he builds.
plans come from some god given place inside of him that already sees the last page. mind unrolls blue print for his hands to yellow-brick road follow.
he brings them double handed offering for my see. or too big to lift requires urgent come. look.
for my child-wanted words inking approval.
each one is best yet and worth most. each one a piece of him laid out in angles and interlocking.
and i already know the tell that follows show. can i keep it?
my answer is drawn card from always same deck.
yes. a few hours.
yes. end of day.
yes. but for the youngers to play. let it come off shelf and fuel their imagination.
yes. only to show me.
yes. until i say it’s time to let it go.
he is willing in my overruling his want, but takes time to shake off disappointment at the no he feels. i wipe off drops of it flung toward me.
they dry in what we are both lifetime learning.
the over he feels in overruling comes from god’s perfect rainbow promise same building blocks for:
angles and interlocking show pieces of his builder to boy born building.
then job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped. and he said, “naked i came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall i return. the lord gave, and the lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the lord.”
in all this job did not sin or charge god with wrong.
job 1.20-22 (ESV)