Who We Are

“Crown of old age, when a man sees his children’s children; pride of youth, when a man can boast of the fathers that begot him.” (Proverbs 17:6, Knox)

BATTERED CROWNS. Broken pieces. Golden shards tossed like refuse. And in the end, no one to boast of by those who don’t exist. We are too selfish. We’re not a tree planted by refreshing waters. But scattered limbs, dried and broken.

Our children are our legacy. They are the gold which we honor. Not the other way around. We do not create them for us, but we bow to them. They deserve our praises. Look! Look at what my child has done! Look at her beauty! Look at his strength!

“My home is surrounded in beauty; You have gifted me with abundance and a rich legacy.” (Psalm 16:6, VOICE)

Such does our Father sing to us. He who knows the sparrows, knows our frame as well. He knows we are but dust and yet has passed upon it such value that He would Himself become one of us. As a child.

Doth not the farmer prize the soil for what it will produce? For the harvest comes not of the seed alone but also of the ground which lays beneath it. And the ground places such value upon the seed that it causes it to grow.

I was writing this when the impossible happened. Outside my window, in full flower, sits a powder puff tree. The bees enjoy it. The hummingbirds visit for their morning nectar. A pair of northern mockingbirds had chosen it for their nest, and deep with the nest’s cavity sat two tiny chicks, helpless except for their parent’s care.

Mockingbirds are fiercely protective and not afraid of much larger bird species. Well, this morning, with these thoughts on my mind, a bird that I have prized, a raptor called a swallowtail kite, swooped down upon them, his eyes on their young. A glorious bird of majestic appearance, white and shining in the sun, in that instant sought the destruction of this bird family I cherish.

The timing could not have been more horrifying, nor the sight of those parents flying after him more impacting.

What have we become? Where have we gone that we’ve left our children on their own? What have we done to peddle them such bad, horrible advice? Where is their childhood, those moments of ups-and-downs guided by our larger, knowing hands?

Who are we that we’ve revoked their right to life?

Selfishness consumes us. A mother in a political ad I saw recently held her young daughter and yet, defended her right to have an abortion. She had the right to choose between her life and her child’s, she said.

No! No, you don’t. In her is your value. In her is ours.

Does the vine toss off the fruit so that we would admire the leaves? What sense does this make? Anyone, anyone who lifts themselves onto a pedestal and leaves their children in the dirt at their feet has it all backward.

"Hear, O my son, and receive my sayings; and the years of thy life shall be many. I have taught thee in the way of wisdom; I have led thee in right paths. When thou goest, thy steps shall not be straitened; and when thou runnest, thou shalt not stumble." (Proverbs 4:10-12)

This nation was founded so that their children, their descendants could live free, and how many since then have sent their children here? How many? And what of other places? How many children have people, calling themselves adults, saying they are mature, destroyed? Herod killed thousands just to hopefully kill one reported as God’s Son. And Jesus knows all of them by name. Rachel wept for her children because man was wrong in his discard of youth. And in their past, Molech, who formed the valley of the shadow of death, to this false god, a nothingness concocted in men’s heads, they murdered the innocent.

Innocence is their value. It is what makes them gold. And also the promise of their future. That they can take what we have lived and make of it something far grander is prizeworthy.

In a song he’s written, Benjamin William Hastings, sings of his children. He says he will make of his ceiling their floor. How beautiful this is. From what is over our heads, our children can go yet higher than we ever will and take with them the memory of the ones who loved them enough to propel them forward. They leave in their footsteps a reflection of all that caused them to have life, most of all us, and above all, the Creator who formed them.

Who blessed the fruit of our body that He created and bid us multiply, make more of us, not just physical beings but spiritual ones. This is what man has not seen. God loses no life. Though the body may die, the spirit is forever. We only forfeit this when we choose spiritual death. Deception is the only reason.

God alone creates children, not for our loss but for our gain. That we would spend all we have on them wisely and frame in them our ending, that moment before we step into His presence, an image of who we were, who we are.

“Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage for ever: for they are the rejoicing of my heart.” (Psalms 119:111)

Photo by krakenimages on Unsplash

Read “He Needs Us.”
https://sdwauthor.blogspot.com/2023/05/he-needs-us.html
“Jesus came as in infant, knowing the lives of children would be lost. Knowing the lives of the world would be saved.”

Read “Jesus Loves the Little Children.”
https://sdwauthor.blogspot.com/2023/10/jesus-loves-little-children.html
“Jesus said to not deny Him the children. Don’t deny them His presence but pour into them that our Savior is their Savior. That He loves us, and He loves them, and healing is as much available in their lives as in any adult’s. Then live it as an example to them.”


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Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com