one time i was driving in East Texas, and i saw a billboard that said, “desperate? Jesus helps.” and i turned to my mama and said, “i wish there was an asterisk that said, “but you might need some therapy before you can feel it.”
before life fell entirely apart and came back together, i had a sentence i would say a lot. it was, “i will never be a better parent than God.” i said it before my mind believed it. (in truth, i guess i had gone years without genuinely feeling loved by my God.) i said it often and with confidence, even though it was a truth i couldn’t actually reconcile in my own mind. i said it before i genuinely knew God was anything more than a tolerant surveyor of my mistakes. i said it before the foundation of my life cracked wide open and light came pouring in again.
before i felt God breathing life into my dry bones, i still tried hard to maintain the spiritual life i had always known. i knew something was off, but i had no idea how to begin to repair what i couldn’t see or understand. when had my faith stopped fitting in my life? i went through the motions out of obligation and familiarity until i ultimately just kinda slowed to a stop and shrugged. i was at a loss that didn’t feel good but also didn’t make sense. inside those grains of sand were slipping, and i didn’t know how to get back home. so I just set up a base camp that mostly didn’t include God. He was always invited. i really did love Him and want Him to be there, although i knew, deep down, He wouldn’t show up. He didn’t want to. He had no need or interest in my life or my problems or my pain.
one late, late night i listened to “goodness of God” and the line “Your goodness is running after, it’s running after me.” to this day, i don’t know if it was a half-dream or idea or thought or vision, but i just kept seeing Charlie running into the street. and time after time, i would run to get him. he would bolt, and i would bolt faster. i was never more than one step behind, and i’d grab him before the oncoming car’s impact. over and over and over. and i realized that, as a parent, there would never be a time where i would shrug and say, “have at it, kid. get hit this time. i’m done. i’ve taught you long enough, and i know you know better by now. i’m tired. i’m annoyed. i’m out. figure it out yourself.” i would literally put my life in front of his before i willingly let him get hit by a car. it might end up taking us both, but i would be with him until the very end. like Christ actually did, i would’ve died before i let him take that blow. because i call him mine. that’s my boy there. blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, if you commit a crime, i’ll visit you, if you wet the bed, i’ll change you, if you’re stuck, i’m right beside you, mine for all time. mine. i will be all in, always, because you are mine.
i will never be a better parent than God.
part of me wishes i could say that was the pivotal moment that changed my life, but it wasn’t. it was a slow burn that led to the breakdown that led to my real life beginning. but it’s the day i started to believe that God could care about me the way i cared about Charlie. and with time, therapy, healing, heart work and breakthroughs, that fear finally vanished one day. in an instant, my life and my faith could coexist again. for me, it wasn’t that my beliefs had changed. i just had unearthed some deep lies about my good Father that i had to unlearn. it wasn’t ever God’s fault. countless broken, worthy people made in His image had used His words out of context, and my precious, broken mind believed all the wrong parts.
and now i see that God’s name should always be synonymous with love. He’s never not running after His children. He’s always planning our great rescue mission. there’s never a time where He is indifferent to our pain. because i would repeatedly lay down my life for that child running in the street.
and i will never, ever be a better parent than God.