The Eternal Wiring of my Ten-Month-Old
What My Kids Teach Me About Eternity
I don’t know if it’s from sitting in the Psalms lately—this book that feels like walking barefoot on holy ground—but something deep came to mind yesterday. I want to observe it more closely and share it with you—I have often been told to write down what I hope to remember, so I would like to remember this with you.
Yesterday, like many times before, my third-born, Mercy, got hurt. She’s ten months old. Her cry pierced the room, and as I came near, she reached for me. I picked her up, kissed her forehead, rubbed her back, and did all I could to comfort her. But even in my arms, she kept crying and reached for Mama. My wife took her, hugged her, kissed her, loved her. Then Mercy came back to me again. Back and forth she went.
And at that moment, I observed something eternal.
She wasn’t just seeking comfort—she was seeking complete comfort—not one or the other—both. It’s like her soul knew that love is fullest when both her parents are near. Her body, her brain, her spirit—everything in her was reaching for the full picture of home. And I realized: that’s the kind of wholeness we’re all wired for. And it doesn’t start with us—it starts with God.
“So God created man in His own image... male and female He created them.” (Genesis 1:27)
Science tells us that mothers tend to nurture and comfort, while fathers often engage through play and challenge. That lights up a child’s brain in different ways. But long before science discovered this, God designed it. When He created us male and female, He wasn't just building a home—He was reflecting His own heart. Both roles bear His image, and together, they reveal something more significant than either one could on its own.
I find it nearly unfathomable that my ten-month-old could teach me this. But she did. Mercy reminded me that deep within us is divine wiring for full, relational comfort—comfort that can only truly be found in the embrace of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”
—2 Corinthians 13:14
We don’t just want pieces of love—we ache for wholeness. Mercy’s back-and-forth cry wasn’t confusion—it was design. A child naturally longs for what they were made for: the presence of God in His fullness. And this is the ache inside every one of us.
And then came another Scripture:
“As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you.” (Isaiah 66:13)
“As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him.” (Psalm 103:13)
God doesn’t limit His comfort to one form. He embodies the tenderness of a mother and the strength of a father. He made both to reflect Himself. And at that moment of Mercy’s cry, I saw a living parable—a holy echo.
Marriage, too, is a picture of that completeness. Paul calls it a “profound mystery,” a reflection of Christ and the Church. (Ephesians 5:32) Emily and I aren’t God. But together, in our love and unity, we reflect glimpses of His heart—His pursuit and His peace, His presence and His power.
I’ve heard it said that kids are sanctifying vessels for parents—and with the number of apologies I’ve already made to my three daughters, I believe that wholeheartedly (😂). But they’re more than sanctifiers. They’re prophets of eternity. My girls have spoken eternal truths to me without even knowing it. Mercy didn’t preach a sermon—but her cry was one.
“Let the little children come to me... for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” (Mark 10:14)
There’s no shame in your cry. God doesn’t get weary with our back-and-forth. Like any good father, He just wants to be near.
“The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them... The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.” (Psalm 34:17-18)
Now here’s a big caveat I believe needs to be addressed:
If you’re single and longing for a husband or wife, He sees you. He hears you. Don’t let this reflection make you feel like you’re on the outside looking in. Don’t put God in a box. The comfort and completeness that marriage reflects can still be ministered to you and through you by the Holy Spirit. Singleness isn’t a barrier—it might be the very space where God shows you just how present and sufficient He truly is.
And if you are married, take heart. Be encouraged. Keep walking in God’s fullness together. I love how Timothy Keller put it:
“Marriage has the power to show people a glimpse of the gospel—of what it means to be loved unconditionally, not because we are lovely, but because someone has chosen to love us.”
So here’s my challenge:
Never Finished Challenge: Pursue What You're Wired For
With this divine wiring pulsing through us—this longing Mercy revealed—satisfy your soul in the only arms that can truly hold you.
Get into His presence.
Open the Bible and ask, “God, where should I start?”
Put on worship music.
Turn the TV off.
Turn your games off.
And seek Him—daily.
And when you fall short? Own it. Swiftly.
He isn’t looking for performance.
He’s looking for presence.
Because you were made to be held by Him.
Oh, and hug and dance with your spouse.
What does today say about God?
Think I’m crazy? Don’t believe me? Just hug or dance with your spouse in front of your child. Watch their face light up. You’re not just being cute—you’re giving them a glimpse of God’s design. They’re witnessing the overflow of love between two people made in His image, and their spirit knows it. That’s not random. That’s divine intention.
God doesn’t hide these truths to keep us guessing or to rub them in our face. He reveals them—layer by intentional layer—like a good Father drawing us deeper into His heart.
With the beauty of His creation, with the wonder of His design…
I can’t get enough.
What powerful love.
Thank You, Jesus.