I witnessed a beautiful scene last week.  I was visiting our two-year-old grandson at his house.  Shine, as I call him in my writings, was watching Team Umizoomi on television and playing with a toy train set as his mommy and I looked on.

At a particular point, Shine became excited about something he saw on the television.  He ran to the TV screen and pointed to a particular character, saying something like, “Look at Milli!”  When he pointed, his little finger pushed against the television screen.  His mommy said, “Don’t touch the TV when you point.”

Shine backed away, but a minute later he did the same thing.  “Don’t touch the TV when you point,” his mommy said.  “It leaves a messy fingerprint on the screen.”

However, in his excitement, Shine ran again to the television, pushed his finger against the screen a third time, and pointed out something about Milli or Bot or Geo.  This time his mother clapped her hands together sharply and said sternly, “Hey!  I told you not to touch the TV screen with your finger!”

Shine instantly collapsed onto the floor, lay down on his stomach, put his head down on his crossed arms and sobbed.  He knew he had disobeyed and disappointed his mother, and he was crushed with sadness.  His mommy reached toward him and said softly, “Come here, Baby.  It’s okay.”

Immediately Shine jumped to his feet and ran, tears streaming and arms outstretched, into the warm embrace of his mommy.  There he was cuddled, assured of his mother’s love for him, and comforted.  In a few minutes he returned to playing and watching television.

I was struck with the realization that it was to the person who issued the command, the person he had directly disobeyed, the person who reprimanded him that Shine ran for consolation.  I could not help making a spiritual application.

We children of God know the commands of our Father.  We love Him, want to please Him, and determine to obey Him completely.  Yet, some brightly colored object catches our eye, and, despite the fact that our Father has denied the possession of that object to us, we reach out a finger and touch it.

We do precisely what we have been told not to do.  Adam and Eve did it.  King David did it.  Christ’s Chosen Twelve did it, and every child of God since then has done it.  Though we want to honor our Heavenly Parent with perfect obedience, we fail.

Like my precious grandson, we are then filled with remorse and great sorrow.  Feeling unredeemable, we fall on our faces and cry.

To what or whom do we then run for comfort?  Some people run to food or alcohol.  Others run to find a friend who will downplay the offense and help the offender rationalize his or her action.

The only Person who can offer us true comfort is the Person we directly disobeyed.  Like my little grandson, we need to run immediately to that Person and then bask in the forgiveness, love and redemption He offers.

© Debbie Scales               January 31, 2016              511 Words