Learning the language

If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you. --Exodus 33:13

Think about this for a moment:

A baby comes into this world, weak and helpless, unable, really, to communicate much of anything at all.

She (or he) is fully dependent on someone, whether mother or another grownup, for everything. And as these important "others" in our lives act and react and interact, the baby learns.

The baby learns inadvertent lessons, like whether the baby or the cell phone comes first when it makes noise and cries for attention. 

She learns to understand when her grownup is happy, and that sometimes the grownup cries, too, just like she does.

He discerns, too, as he gets a little older, when he just needs to leave his grownup alone for a few minutes.

And that baby learns, as well, how we feel about things. About school. About each other. About God.

My granddaughter is a toddler now. She is at that age where whatever she hears, it comes right back out of her precious little mouth-- for better or worse. My children had the embarrassing experience of having her accidentally repeat an unsavory word uttered in pain. You know-- like when you stub your toe and all of a sudden those words spew forth like Beetle Bailey-- &%$#!!

Oops.

Now, we've become more intentional in what we are teaching her. She will lift her arms to me, look at me with those ginormous blue eyes and say, "Up pleeeeeease!" And we will walk around the house and look at things, name them.

And at some point, she will spot my necklace, take it gently between her fingers.

My necklace is a very plain silver cross, about an inch high. She has been fascinated with it since she was very small. She fingers it carefully, and now, she will look at me and say, "C'oss."

And I will repeat it back. Yes, cross. 

And she will turn it over in her fingers, never tugging or rough, always gentle. Again, she will say it. C'oss.

It's a good thing to hang on to.

And as she grows a little older and a little older, we begin to talk more, about Jesus, about the cross-- about God.

But beyond my words, this sweet child is, I hope, getting another lesson.

She is learning what it feels like to know love. To be the apple of my eye (and her mommy and daddy's eyes, too), to understand that MaMars (that's me!) will always do her best to make the world a safe place.

And to really, truly understand that there is a place where she is beloved best of all, where there is always a hot supper waiting for her when she returns from the land where the wild things are.

The world can be a wild, crazy, angry place sometimes.

We grow up, we think we no longer need that safe place any more-- and then something happens that just kicks our legs right out from under us, makes it hard to catch our breath.

I hope and pray that the message we send through these early years becomes deeply ingrained, in two ways:

First, that she can always count on her family.

Second-- that she can always count on God. Even if, at some point and for some reason, she can no longer count on her family.

I believe this is the single greatest thing we teach our children, this language and lifestyle of love. 

And it is something they are always learning, always figuring out-- possibly most when we aren't even teaching on purpose.

Listen to your words, and just as important, look at your actions through the eyes of a child finding his way in a strange and unfamiliar place.

Speak love. And especially-- live love. Practice love. Daily.

Enjoy this beautiful clip.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuE3_GN1gSY&feature=related