She Didn't Mean It

Today Brynna is 14. She has the mental capacity of a toddler and the understanding of the world around her to match. Sometimes in anger, sometimes in play, she can get physically challenging; some might even say aggressive.

Sometimes she hits, scratches, pokes your eye, or flings a toy in your face when you aren’t looking. She doesn’t know how strong she is or understand the concept of causing pain. Not really. She’s non-verbal, so reasoning with her is pointless. You learn to duck, be cautious, and be forgiving.

When these things happen, we don’t get mad or hold resentment towards her. It isn’t her fault. It’s just the way she is. And we remember that.

She isn’t trying to hurt us, and even if she is, she doesn’t understand what that even really means. We hold her, love her, and try to help her express the things she can’t, the things that cause her to act out. We remember she can’t help it.

Yesterday in prayer before church, my good friend read a passage from Psalm 103 that almost literally ripped my innards out when he got to verses 13-14. The Holy Spirit dropped this nuclear truth into my soul. I was undone. Read it slowly.

As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him. For he knows what we are made of, remembering that we are dust.

The earthly father has compassion for his children. Just like we do with Brynna when she isn’t behaving properly. Why? Because he loves his children more than he is offended by them; because he understands that sometimes they don’t mean it. They’re acting out of frustration, weakness, pain, sadness, whatever. His love for them transcends the situation. Our love for her transcends physical pain and emotional discomfort.

The Lord has compassion for those who fear him. The fear of the Lord is crucial! How, when we sin against Him, can He continue to love us? Why doesn’t He just wipe us out? How is there no more condemnation for those who love Him, for the redeemed?

Because he remembres what we are made of. He remembers we are dust.

When my brother read that passage, all I could think of was Brynna and snuggling her close, whispering, “I know, baby. I know you didn’t mean it. “

Then I saw Jesus scooping me up in His lap, holding me close and saying, “I know, son. I know you didn’t mean it." Then I saw Him turn to the Father and say, “Remember, He is one of mine, but he is still dust. He didn’t mean it.”

Then He grants me sweet repentance as He welcomes me back, again and again, into right relationship with Him.

I”m glad He remembers I’m dust. I’m glad He knows I didn’t mean it.