The Rubber Band Boat

Our oldest son is the definition of a budding scientist.  Even at the age of eight, he had a natural grasp of the scientific process:  develop a hypothesis, devise a means to test it, fail, regroup, repeat. 

Elias’s latest work was a rubber band powered boat.  Well, not really a boat, but a tube with a rubber band running through it and a stick on one end, acting as a propeller.  He was very excited about his invention, and eager to do put his prototype to the test.

Unfortunately, his plans were interrupted, as we were having company over before he could finish.  Part way through the evening, my wife called for our boys, who had both retreated to the bathroom sink, where Elias was busy playing in the water with his creation.  Tina called for the boys to stop and come out to join us.  No response.

Repeated calls produced one of the boys, but Elias remained in the bathroom, apparently ignoring his mother.  I do not like the boys ignoring their mother.  So I joined Elias in the bathroom and closed the door.  I gave him a very stern talking to, repeating for the hundredth time the necessity of responding to his mother.  He began to cry.  He cried because he saw the anger in my demeanor.  He eventually pulled himself together, and we rejoined our company.

The next morning while taking a shower, this incident came back to my mind.  It was a Monday, admittedly not my favorite day of the week, and I was already in a melancholic mood.  As I recalled the incident in my mind, the impact of it hit me full force.  What had I done? 

My son was immersed in something that drives him.  He was in his own little world, as he often is.  While I am sure the sound entered his ears, he may not have even heard his mother calling.  That little world will serve him well one day, and the fruit of it will probably serve others as well.  He will use that little world to create, to invent, to think of things others have not yet considered. 

I was not thinking of any of this when I lectured Elias about the virtues of listening to his mother.  I was only thinking of what I wanted of him. As I stood in the shower, I thought of how I had walked all over his little experimental world and verbally punished him for being lost in it.  And as I pondered on this, I began to sob. 

I believe that moment in the shower was brought about by The Lord Himself.  It was a flash of intense clarity out of nowhere.  I was reminded of how little control I have of my anger in certain circumstances, and how it totally blinds me to the real situation at hand, as anger always does.

That lack of control is the reason I have so much trouble with those who claim that the way to follow God is simply to be obedient.  There are some situations, such as this one, when the problem begins to manifest itself before you have time to even make a choice.  There is no time to choose to “obey” in such circumstances.  It would seem that in some situations, we are practically powerless to “obey”.  While it is true that I am no longer bound to sin by Adam, there is a refining that definitely has not taken place in this area.

As I stood in the shower, in just a few moments, I was made acutely aware of that lack of refinement.  But I saw much more than guilt from failure.  Guilt alone serves little purpose.  I saw a hope for the future.  I was struck by how the only way for me to behave any differently is for The Lord to do a work in my heart BEFORE the opportunity to stumble occurs again.  Once He does that work, I will respond much differently to my son, and without apparent effort.

So I fall before Him and lay all this out there -  “God, if you don’t do a work in my heart, I am sunk.  My “best” just isn’t working here.  Thanks for reminding me of how totally dependent I am on You to do this work.”  Now, I stand on the ground that indeed, this is a work He wants to do.

First appeared in the July 2009 edition of the Manna. http://readthemanna.org