Daddy, please don't go!

I have a coworker whose son just started attending Pre-K. He loves his mother and cries every time she leaves him at school. The other day, the coworker walked in and told us she was late because her son wouldn’t let go of her. Every morning, she has to beg him to stop crying when she drops him off.

“But I just want my mamma. Please don’t go!” says the pink faced little boy with tears running down his puffy cheeks.

“Mama has to go to work but I promise I’ll be back to get you,” the mom says, trying to console her son.

He does not budge and wraps himself around her leg begging her not to leave. Eventually, after countless promises from his mom, he calms down and plays with the other kids.

I was standing there listening to her story and I thought about how in a few years, that boy, maybe 17 years old, may not even want to be around his mom. He’ll think he has his teenage life figured out and instead of clinging to his mama’s leg; he’ll be brewing in anger in his room because he was grounded over a dumb action.

Isn’t that the way we treat God sometimes?

When we’re going through a crisis or we can’t figure out what’s going on life, we cling on to Jesus’ leg screaming, “Daddy, please don’t go. Please. I need you!” We wrap ourselves up in a fetal position and soak his lap with our tears.

The loving savior he is, he never leaves us. He takes us by the hand and says, “I promise I’ll get you through. I promise I will never abandon you.”

And he keeps his promise. So, we polish ourselves, and before we know it, we’ve forgotten about him. We turn into that rebellious teenager and walk away saying, “I don’t need you right now. I’ve got it figured out.” Next thing you know, we come back because somebody hurt us, we made the wrong decision, or we need God to fulfill our selfish ambitions.

God’s grace may be sufficient but let us never treat our God like he is disposable. Let us pray to become the toddlers, the teenagers, the bachelors, the bachelorettes, the old men, and the mature women screaming, “Daddy, please don’t go. Please. I need you in order to breath, to move, to have hope, to have dreams, to be effective, to be patient, to be kind, to be tender, to show grace, to forgive, to be forgiven, to be confident, to have life, but most all, don’t go because I love you. I’m not interested in what you can give me. I love you. Please don’t go.”