Opening the door from my office, I stepped into the hallway. The house was shrouded in darkness. I glanced at my watch, 8:30 p.m.-- much too early for my son to be in bed. Since it was just the two of us home, I wondered why the house was black.
“Where are you son?” I shuffled my way toward the stairway. Nothing could have surprised me any more than a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. I stood at the top of the stairs, tears filling my eyes. The Christmas tree stood centered in front of the picture window, leaning slightly to the left. It’s branches hung a bit heavier on one side with glass ornaments, while strands of ribbon tightly wrapped the top right of the limbs.
The lights in the house were out, so I could enjoy the warmth of the Christmas tradition my son had worked so hard to provide.
His disability prevents him from doing a stellar job – straightening the limbs, sorting the decorations evenly around the tree, but none of that mattered because the greatest gift I could have received was him, standing in his famous Peter Pan stance, grinning from ear to ear. The work he’d done was done especially for me, no strings attached. He didn’t ask for a compliment nor did he ask if I liked the tree. What he said was enough.
“Just for you mom. All for you.” And I cried
There are times I cry because of his mental retardation – times I feel so badly for him, wish and want that he’d not be faced with the challenges he wades through daily. After all, no parent wants their child to suffer. But his heart is so genuine, his intention so pure, that I see how God uses him daily to make me a better person.
He is not a perfect child by the standards of the world. In fact, some would say God’s workmanship was a bit off the day He created him. However, I would disagree. God had things prepared, ready for my son’s entry into the world. He knew the challenges he would face, knew the strength he’d have, understood the compassion and genuine knack he’d possess to view the world from a simplistically wise standpoint. God knew Chase would affect many. God knew he would affect me.
There was no fishing for a compliment in the work he’d done, only the thought that he was doing it for me – free of charge, completely unexpected, and filled with love. The Father stood on the other side of the tree, hands on his hips, in the same Peter Pan stance, nodding with pride. His shoulder pressed against the tree holding it steady until I got to His side to straighten it in it’s stand.
“Isn’t this nice?” God asked as He walked around beside Chase and rested His arm on my son’s shoulder. Chase flinched for a second, almost as though he felt God touch him.
“Indeed it is,” I said, “The most beautiful workmanship I’ve ever seen.”
Chase smiled a satisfactory grin, pleased that I was impressed. I walked around the tree eyeing the three ornaments on one limb and never once considering that they be separated, rather leaving the work of a loving servant to be a lasing reminder that God is almighty in His plan. Understanding that if one of the Christmas balls should slip from the limb, that it would land on the carpet and not the hardwood floor, protecting it from shattering. His workmanship is perfect – flawless and complete, for He is God.
Prayer: Lord, I am blessed You have given me such wonderful rewards.