Open Arms


 

Bur concerning Israel he said, “All day long I have held out my hands to a disobedient and obstinate people.” Romans 10:21

This morning in prayer I was reminded of one of my most difficult students. This little guy had a hefty side dish of autism in addition to his more obvious syndrome. He could easily become violent, growling, hitting and scratching, with little or no provocation. On the other hand he had the sweetest smile, the best laugh (when it was a true laugh, not an evil one) and I believe a kind heart. I absolutely loved him. Still to say that I was a bit terrified of what he could do to me is not an understatement. Oh my boy!

          There were so many times as he was gearing up for destruction of property or persons, that I thought,  if I could just grab him and hug him close he would calm down. Not so. On rare occasions he would let me give him a hug. Admittedly I was leery, as we never knew when sweet would end and brutal would begin.  Still when he would approach me in a positive way I would give him a big hug. He seemed to like it, to crave it but it never changed anything.

          This morning thinking of him, I pictured our precious, heavenly Father holding out his open arms to us as we go about our destructive, self-centered way. Wouldn’t we be far better off if we would just sink into those open arms and accept the comfort and healing that are offered there?  Sadly, far too often, we don’t.

          Much like my little buddy we run, kicking and screaming in the other direction, the direction that brings pain and failure. Why? I think that answer is different for each one of us. Just like I have no idea why my little guy resisted the one thing he seemed to truly want, I have no idea why I resist the one thing I not only truly want but desperately need.

          For the months I worked with little man I was open to offering him affection and attention against much of the advice I was given. The best bet apparently was to just stay away from him but given his level of need that was not a possibility. My belief was that if I poured on love, eventually it would reach him.

          That is how our Father loves us, against all that seems logical. We run; he loves. We kick and scratch; he loves. We argue and act like brats; he loves. Maybe it’s time to just fall into those open arms and let that love transform us into who we were created to be.

 

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