It wasn’t that his request was difficult to perform.
It was just his timing.
“Can you sew up the hole in my stuffed dog please?” my seven-year-old asked as I rushed past him, late for church, looking for a lost shoe.
“Not right now, maybe later, ok Buddy?” I said hurriedly. “Now get in the van so we can go!”
A few nights later, fresh from the bedtime rituals, water requests, bathroom trips, hunger pangs, and odd questions, I rocked a crying baby and tried to calm my frazzled nerves. My seven-year-old crept out of his room, laid a hand on my arm, and smiled at me.
“Mom, did you sew my dog up yet? You said you would sew it.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do it right now kid. It’s ten o’clock and I’ve got to put the baby to sleep. I’ll do it later. Now go to sleep.”
He nodded his head trustingly, turned and went back to his room.
Several weeks passed. The requests came consistently at the “wrong” time. In the middle of cooking dinner. Five minutes before we needed to leave for football practice. The moment I set out to fold clothes, teach math, or clean the bathroom.
“I’ll do it later,” was my constant response.
Finally, the stuffed dog was placed in my room, cotton fluff escaping from the gaping hole and carpeting my room in soft white fuzz.
Then last night, I attended a church gathering and we participated in communion. I walked toward the front, thoughts filled with the broken body of Christ and His blood, shed for me. Hands open, I waited in line to receive the bread.
But a voice broke through my thoughts.
“Kneel at the altar for a moment after you come to the table,” I heard Jesus say to my heart.
“Of course!” I replied. “But actually, umm, I’m waiting in line to receive this communion, and there are several people behind me. I’ll be in someone’s way if I do that.”
“Then kneel before you take it.”
My heart began to agree, but as I looked at the altar, and looked back at the line I began to give my excuses.
“Jesus, you know we’re supposed to be doing Communion now and I’m kind of busy doing that. I don’t want to look silly. Of course, I’d love to kneel at the altar, but maybe not right now in front of all these people. How about if I just sit down and pray when I get back to my pew? I’ll kneel another time. It will be more convenient then.”
I glanced again at the altar, noticed the line surging forward, and stepped quickly towards the bread, hands outstretched to receive communion.
But I couldn’t leave behind the nagging feeling that I’d missed a blessing by my busyness. I’d missed out on a chance to commune with my Savior for a moment, in favor of physical Communion. Oh, the irony!
Tonight, after another long day, I walked into my bedroom and saw the stuffed dog, legs dangling limply to the side, ripped, and torn.
I saw my son, missing his stuffed dog at night, and my quick, “later, Son,” answers.
I saw the altar again, and how I bypassed Jesus’s quiet request to spend time with me.
I slowly picked up the stuffed dog and thought about how many times I could have sewn up the dog, but instead chose to attend to other things.
The oft told tale of Mary and Martha slid into my head with the words, “You are anxious and troubled about many things but one thing is necessary.”
The story is found in Luke 10:38-42 and it says:
38Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. 39And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. 40But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” 41But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, 42but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”
I felt Jesus say, “Choose what is best. Listen to my heart. Come rest with Me. I’m here.”
Jeremiah 29:13-14a in the Amplified Version Bible says: “Then [with a deep longing] you will seek Me and require Me [as a vital necessity] and [you will] find me with you search for Me with all your heart. I will be found by you, says the Lord.”
I picked out a needle and thread. Placed the dog on my bed and pulled the ripped cloth together. Began sewing the soft sides back into place.
And I whispered,
“Jesus, I’m sorry that I let the busyness override what is truly the good portion and what is most important. Help me to enjoy spending time with my children and family and not waste the time that you have freely given me to enjoy them. Help me to enjoy the moments in Your presence Lord whether it is a quiet breath to remember you at the altar, or a holy moment with You as I’m knee deep in dirty laundry. Be my vital necessity and my deep longing.”
I came away from my encounter feeling seen by the Lord. I came needy and left blessed.
He quietly spoke truth I needed in a way I could understand it.
And He used a holey stuffed dog to bless me with a holy moment!
Isn’t He such a good, good Father?
Oh, and my son was ecstatic about his newly refurbished dog.
