Good Words and Flying Balloons
It was a no good, really bad day, and I couldn’t hide my tears.
To make matters worse, my son caught sight of me as he scuttled by.
But he held his calm. He did a double take, and flashed a smile.
“You’re God’s warrior,” he said.
I blinked. Did that really come from his twelve year old mouth?
His words found their place. They flickered some kind of light in me. You know how love plus truth equals hope, right? Well, I daydreamed as he skipped off to his room.
Then he returned.
“Remember, you’re God’s warrior!” he repeated with a peek around the corner.
Did he come back just to tell me this?
His words brought more light. More air in my balloon. But such is the nature of encouragement. It’s lightens us. Brightens us. Grows in us.
At the simple profundity of my son’s healing words, a smile stretched my face.
I’m God’s warrior.
I love how this truth enlarged me. This truth spoken in love. And it works like this:
Once sore, my balloon began to soar. I whispered my Jesus-thank yous.
Thank you for good words, for truth, for spiritual armor. Thank you that it’s your battle; we already win in you.
And Lord? You’re my everything.
Make me a conduit of encouragement too? Even today? I want to fly people’s balloons. I certainly don’t want to burst them. Ack! Help me never burst them!