That God of mine who helps poor, miserable, little, unworthy me…
When my children started high school, the school decided to assign them to graded classes. I suppose that they did this to try to teach most effectively so that children who were most academically gifted could fly ahead and the children who struggled more academically were able to stay back and take their time to uncover the information that was required of them.
For my eldest son this did not present a problem. He is academically gifted and tended to be placed in the classes that received the most prestige. However, for my second son this was problematic. All of a sudden – at the ripe old age of twelve years old – he was being told that his ability was limited to a “D” grade or a “C” grade.
His very first thought was that he would be labelled stupid and that people would laugh at him for not being one of the “smart kids”.
Now, of course, we had a nice long chat about this and discussed that idea that this was a stepping stone to improvement and in actual fact the grading of a class would have no bearing on the ability of a child in any case because a person was a person no matter what their grade.
The grade that my eldest son received did not make me love my eldest son any more than his brother. It did not make me more proud of my eldest son than I was of his brother. Instead, I was equally proud of both of my sons (and also of my daughter) for the ability that they demonstrated. And I reminded myself – and often do – of the blessings I have been given in having children who are capable of attending school and of learning in any capacity.
And I have been thinking about this today because it reminds me of the Saints. You see, the Saints are like my eldest son – they have a higher academic ability. This means that God expects of them greater things. After all, He has provided them with more tools to achieve their goals and this translates into their greater ability to glorify Him. But just as I love both of my children and I am proud of both of them, so too does God love me. Even though my soul is miserable, weak and sinful and even though I am so often falling short of where I need to be, God tells me not to despair and not to be afraid. And He tells me to rest on Him and He will give me rest.
And just as his older brother and I will help to support my second son at school so that he does not need to struggle all the way along, so too does God support me. And just when I think that it is all too hard, God lifts the burden up onto Himself and carries me home…
And that seems to me today to be more important than any grade of any ability in all the world… That God of mine who helps poor, miserable, little, unworthy me…
For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.
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