Learning New Things

February 18, 2022 Georgia Tanner

The Lord your God is in your midst,

a mighty one who will save;

he will rejoice over you with gladness;

he will quiet you by his love;

he will exult over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17 ESV

How many four-year-olds does it take to blow out a candle? To Mikah’s credit, she got the first one on her first attempt. But there were many more candles lined up along the table, with flames still burning.

It was the first time in many weeks since we had gathered. The last time was to celebrate love coming down in Immanuel; this time it was to celebrate love going around in memory of Saint Valentine. I probably need to look him up sometime.

It was also the Sunday of football, but we are not a football family. The adults had been happy enough to take a turn on the newly hung swing suspended by the tree guys 25 feet over our heads on a sturdy branch of the Maple tree. The one-year-old was content wobbling around the house with his new walking skills and oddly, a helium-filled balloon accidentally attached to one ankle. And the four-year-olds had discovered the excitement of extinguishing fire.

Information comes to us these days by phone – sometimes even when the action is happening in the next room. Ding. You’ve got a text. And there they are, Mikah and Barrett on hands and knees, side by side, leaning forward and concentrating on their candle’s golden flame. They fill their lungs with a deep breath and blow. The flame flickers but still burns. They do it again. And again. And again. You begin to wonder how there can possibly be a flame burning anywhere on the table despite all the undeterred effort.

I ask myself, “What is the story here?” Because you know there has to be a story. I think what is so endearing here is their enthusiasm. Their excitement in learning how to do something new; something I don’t give a second thought to – blowing out a flame.

I remember at this same table teaching Sidney, when she was perhaps 8, how to spark the match and light the wick. At 13, she is in charge of lighting all the candles on the dinner table now. It was her job this evening before we sat down for dinner.

We gather together around the table to share a meal and conversation and ourselves. And to teach the children. There were two adults out of frame watching carefully and reminding these two not to catch their hair on fire.

Am I still this excited to learn a new thing? Am I aware of my Father’s watchful eye? Am I listening to His voice as he gives one word of instruction but allows me to fail and fail until I figure it out? Do I persevere in difficult things when I hear the joy in His voice? Am I secure in His presence at His table, knowing His love will keep me safe? Will I return to try again when interruptions distract me? (These two returned after a potty break to successfully blow out every candle.)

I must remember the joy of learning a new thing. I need to watch these children at my table learning how to blow out candles over and over again. I need this reminder to keep trying. To not get discouraged and give up.

I am writing the stories of Jesus. I am two years in after starts and stops and barely halfway through. I feel like a four-year-old in pink polyester wings who has misplaced her broken plastic tiara. My resources are the profound first-person accounts of Matthew and Mark and John and the meticulous notes from the researcher Doctor Luke. They make it look so easy – the telling of these stories. I also want to tell these stories. But they are beyond my understanding. It appears to be easy. Even four-year-olds learn about the fish and the bread multiplying and the blind man who can see after a little dirt and spit is rubbed on his eyes. But it is harder than it looks. I want to tell his stories well. The stories of a man named Jesus who was so much more than a man. He was a burning flame that would not be blown out.

So, I climb up on the table. I crouch down to get close to the flame and I blow. I fill my lungs with precious God-given air, and I blow again. I picture my Father and the Holy Spirit, just out of frame, watching carefully, delighting in me.

Question: Have you ever thought of God delighting in you? That just doesn’t seem possible, does it? I remember how wonderful it was when this passage of scripture was first pointed out to me, “He will take great delight in you… he will rejoice over you with singing.” (NIV version). Think about this, my friend – whatever God is teaching you right now – He is rejoicing over you as you try and try again. Do not be discouraged. He is delighted in you!

While I was writing this story, I heard this song for the first time. “Take heart, take a breath, and let me lift that heavy weight up off your chest.” May it encourage you as it has encouraged me.

Take Heart Matthew West

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3osp2p_gLx4