At one point today, amidst celebrations that our power did not get turned off, we noticed that Brave had launched himself backward into the pillows that were placed around him on the rug. He was flailing his little arms and pumping his fat little legs and voicing his complaints. We were eating enchiladas, and quite frankly did not feel like getting up.
"Let him struggle," Daniel said. "Struggling will make him stronger."
He of course meant that struggling like an upturned turtle would fine-tune his muscles and coordination, but the vastness of that statement hung in the air and got me thinking.
I thought back to my favorite scene in my favorite movie, which I guess makes it my favorite movie scene, where Sandra Bullock as "Pertty" Bertie Calvert in Hope Floats does not intervene as her ex-husband rejects their daughter, preparing to catch her broken-hearted little girl when it was all over.
Yesterday, Daniel and I co-taught Bright's preschool class at the international fellowship. I watched as Bright followed a particular little girl around the classroom, plopping down next to her at story time, and chasing her around the craft table. She was mildly annoyed with his attention, and snootily huffed at one point, "Why do you always want to be near me?" Bright didn't break stride. He looked at her point blank, wearing a big handsome smile, and said, "Because you're my friend." I, of course, could see that he was being rejected, but he wasn't fazed. His resilience was inspiring.
Panning out even more, the skeptics of faith often ask why, if there is a loving creator, does he allow bad things to happen. I think the answer I'm getting at is obvious, so I won't bother putting it in writing. I just hope I can remember it the next time I am flailing and complaining, and no one appears to be coming to my aid.
