I don’t know where you are in life, but no matter how old you are, I don’t think you ever enjoy disappointing someone you love (this thought coming from a recovering people-pleaser).
And no one dislikes disappointing someone more than my middle daughter, Tallulah.
I walked into the kitchen and saw a big, beautiful smile on her face.
She had an Olipop in her hands.
Mommy had left it sitting on the counter.
I looked at her cute little smiley face.
“Tallulah, when you were in the cabinet, did you secretly drink some of Mommy’s Olipop?”
She looked directly at me and confidently said, “No.”
So I smelled her breath because I was three once.
And apparently she inherited something from me as a kid:
She is a terrible liar.
I sent her to time-out because she had lied, and she started to cry.
Of course, part of the sadness was that she was in trouble. But I also know her heart. Tallulah feels people deeply, and I could tell something else was hurting her:
She had disappointed her dad.
Before I walked over to her, I quietly asked the Holy Spirit to help me teach her as her father (improving on this, though I often still react). Then I sat with her. I listened. With gentle words, I asked her again, “Did you drink from Mommy’s drink?”
“Yes. I lied.” Tallulah said as her head drooped.
She told me she was sorry. I forgave her. But she kept crying.
I told her, “Hey, it’s okay. Daddy forgives you. We can move on.”
But she couldn’t seem to move on.
It was almost as if she wanted to somehow erase what had happened before she could enjoy being close to me again.
So I grabbed her hands. We prayed together. I hugged her. And then we moved on together.
That moment, like many of my children’s moments, stayed with me.
There is something profound about being a Christian and learning what to do after you mess up.
This morning, I was reading about King Josiah. “Finally!” I thought to myself. A king who is doing it right!
Few kings in Scripture have a record of faithfulness like his. He sought God while he was young. He destroyed idols. He repaired the temple. He humbled himself when the Book of the Law was discovered. He led Judah back toward worship of the Lord.
And then, near the end of his life, he made a terrible decision.
He went into a battle God had warned him not to enter.
And he died.
“After all that faithfulness!” My brain wrestled. I aimed a frustrating snowball of emotions at God’s face. And like always, He patiently taught me.
And this is what I believe He put on my heart:
No matter how long we have walked with God, we never graduate from daily dependence on Him.
Yesterday’s faithfulness cannot sustain today’s communion.
Yesterday’s obedience cannot become today’s confidence.
Yesterday’s closeness with God cannot replace receiving from Him again today.
And maybe that is not merely a weakness of the Christian life.
Maybe it is one of its greatest gifts.
Speaking of greatest gifts. Jesus teaches the spiritually hungry disciples not how to walk on water, heal the sick, or raise the dead to life. He teaches them how to have communion—how to pray.
In the prayer, He says to ask for your daily bread. Teaching-wise, this challenges us to ask for what we need today. But with the pattern of all of Scripture, we can go further.
The bread is not only a provision in John 6. It is Jesus. And with this bread, like Israel’s manna, our great joy and delight, we get to commune with Him daily.
And there is something powerfully freeing about that.
You do not have to secure tomorrow’s faithfulness today. You do not have to guarantee that you will be faithful at seventy.
You are called to abide in Christ today.
Then tomorrow, Lord willing, by His power, you receive again.
That makes faithfulness less like storing enough spiritual fuel for an entire lifetime and more like Israel waking up every morning and discovering:
The manna is there again.
And ultimately, the greater gift is not merely that the Father keeps putting bread on the ground.
It is that the Bread of Life has come down from heaven and given Himself to us.
Never Finished Challenge:
Like my daughter, you have not blown it. You aren’t kicked out of God's family. But like Dr. Myles Monroe says, “Don’t miss that class.”
Ask God to help you draw near to Him in His word and understand what it says about Him.
Furthermore, ask God for strength, according to how He has wired you to include Him in the mundane and the extraordinary in a way that glorifies Him.
My love for Tallulah did not change when she messed up, and His love for you wont change either.
Pick up the manna.
Receive. Become. Do.
“My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me.” — Jesus (John 4:34)
Have Jesus for Breakfast.
Feed on His Word.
Walk in His will.
Know Him more today than yesterday.
Never Finished.
Choose Jesus.
Tallulah reminds me of how I remember Joanna when she was younger. ☺️