Yesterday I had just finished my workout and gone upstairs when Noah (2 yrs. old) insisted that we play “dig dirts.” I was thinking a shower took first priority, and almost told him that I would play with him after getting cleaned up, but, thankfully, acquiesced. We got out the big board with roads painted on it that was a Christmas present from his older brothers, and laid it on the carpet in the living room. Noah trooped to the den and returned with his clear, plastic container of tractors and road construction machines. The scooping and dumping began. A short while later, Noah went back to the den again, this time returning with his matching container of Legos, all of which he readily dumped out onto the board. He instructed me to make a tractor, so I did. Then he asked me to build another one, so I did again. As we were playing, Noah looked up and simply said, “I wuv you, Daddy.” I told him I loved him too, and gave him a kiss. Then he intently looked up at me again and said, “Big sqweeze?” I replied, “I would love a big squeeze.” Wrapping his arms around my neck, he made the groaning noise that comes with giving a big squeeze. Then it was back to Legos and tractors and dig dirts.
Now, I had not had a particularly hard day, but I was physically and emotionally weary, and things were weighing on my mind (as is often the case for any pastor). Noah’s unsolicited “I wuv you, Daddy” was a “word fitly spoken” (Prov. 25:11). They were “gracious words” that “are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body” (Prov. 16;24). It quickly occurred to me that had I not stopped to play with him the moment would not have happened at all. What began as an ordinary playtime that any father and son could have shared, became an extraordinary occasion for God’s kindness. The Lord knew what I needed, and He orchestrated the instant with precision. Sometimes help comes unexpectedly. And sometimes love comes in little packages.