"Yeah, my Dad can help! He fixes broken legs with socks and rice!"

Our family just came through a 2-week battle with the flu! It always starts with their eyes. I went on a Wednesday to pick Jude up from school. I met him with a hug at the entrance to the school and immediately I saw it in his eyes. I said, “Jude, bud, you do not feel very good, do you?” He looked up and asked how I knew. Did I talk to his teacher or call the school? Nope. I said, “One day you will understand that a Daddio always knows when his kid is hurting.” You just have to pay attention.

He looked amazed! I remember this same experience as a kid. I would have a ball game coming up, or a party, or a trip planned, when I began to feel sick. I would try my best to hide it but, somehow, my mom and dad always knew. My mouth said I was fine, but my parents knew I was hurting. If you are a parent, you get it. It hurts when our kids hurt.

Well, of course, as always Jude had the flu and that means he generously shared it with his little brother. It has been pretty bad. Before long, our house was filled with headaches, leg aches, tears, screams, and all the wonderful fluids and necessary cleanups that accompany a visit by the flu in a house full of little ones.

You know, it is a lot of work having sick kids. Yes, I mean that there is the cleaning, snuggling, medicine charts, late nights, and early mornings. But, really, the most difficult part is just having to watch your children in pain, sick, and hurting, even when you know it is something as insubstantial as the flu. It is hard to watch your child hurt.

But the good news is I know how to help with most of their problems. Sometimes early in the morning, sometimes late at night, in the middle of the night, and all through the day, ceaselessly, my sick, high-maintenance children would come to me saying, “Daddio, my stomach hurts what do I do? Daddio, my head hurts, tell me what to do. Daddio, my legs hurt, how do I make it better?” There is this amazing culture at our house in which our children (at this point) rarely need to be asked if they need help. They are great communicators when it comes to need.

They just expect me to know how to help, and most of the time I can, even though it often makes little sense to them. For instance, Jude came crying to me with aching legs. He watched with fascinated curiosity and disbelief as I preceded to the sock drawer. I got out our biggest sock. The fascination and disbelief continued as I went to the pantry and filled it with rice. At this point he said, “Daddio, I am not hungry and I don’t want to eat out of a sock. When will you fix my legs!?” I heated the sock in the microwave (which received the most hilarious hysteria), and preceded to tell him to put it on his legs.

Even with all of his lack of understanding, incredibly, he obeyed. He always does, especially when he is hurting. When I give him instructions, he does it immediately. I suppose this is normal for a child and a loving and caring parent. He knows I care and that I want to help, and that somehow, I know much more than he does, so when he is in pain, he comes to me and does what I ask. The look of shocked relief and joy on his face as the warm rice filled sock did its work to his aching legs was priceless. I later heard him say to a friend, “Yeah, my dad fixes broken legs with socks and rice!”

Now, obviously, all of this makes me think a lot about our heavenly Father, and how it must be for him to watch a world full of his children hurting, sick, and broken. It is an infinitely more difficult situation than my own difficulty watching my three children.

Here God is, watching his children hurting, broken, and sick with sin, in trials, and difficulties, and he cares so much. He loves us so much. He is always paying attention and notices our difficulty and hurt. And, he also has all the wisdom and power to really help us in the midst of our suffering.

We might not always think his instructions make sense. We might sometimes obey with incredulity and shocked disbelief that this is the answer. But, all we must do is to act like good children who trust our loving and caring Father and go to him for help. There is nothing like the priceless look on the face of a new believer, or a faithful follower, who discovers that God has met the need, has healed the hurt, has restored what was aching and broken, in a way we could never have imagined.

But then, imagine God offering the instructions, the wisdom, the help that will heal our hurt, and being answered with refusal. Can you imagine offering your children the help that will heal them from their pain, bring relief to their aching and brokenness, only to have them tell you they do not want it, that they are not interested? I can only imagine.

I can only imagine looking into the suffering eyes of my sweet child as Jude, Kate, or Levi told me that they would rather hurt, would rather ache, would rather stay broken, than follow my instructions, or trust in my care. Multiply the pain to infinity and we only begin to imagine the heart of God.

I do not know how long I could keep it up. I would never turn away from my children for lack of care, but O wonder how long I could suffer the pain of refusal and the position of helpless onlooker to my children’s brokenness, know I could heal it all if they would trust me.

The good news is that our heavenly Father will never give up on his children. Are you hurting? Are you stressed? Are you broken? Do you need help, or healing, or wisdom, or instruction? Your heavenly father is desperate to care for you. God knows when we hurt. He is paying attention.

God is challenging me to see his children. When I look at hurting, broken, aching, suffering neighbors and friends, who are looking in all the wrong places for healing and relief, I see children. I see God’s children. I am not interested in proving them all wrong. I just want to see children healed. I just want to see my friends find relief, healing, and to see the shocking disbelief that the answer to their desperation is a loving Father who has always been there, offering his healing hand.

 What if, like trusting children with a loving father, when we are hurting, we run to our Father, no matter if it is early in the morning, or late at night, or all throughout the day. What if we trusted? What if we obeyed? What if we went out and said to a friend, “Yeah, my Father fixes broken lives and grieving hearts.”

He is always here. He will always takes care of his children.