When he woke the next morning, he remembered that it was the two of us who put him in the crib the night before and he called out, “Granddad! Grandma!” And there was that smiling face and those big blue eyes under a head full of tousled blond curls.
My one concern that weekend was understanding what he was saying. He has been talking since he was one, but sometimes in a language we can’t quite figure out. It sounds for all the world like a real tongue. It comes complete with hand motions and facial expressions and he is quite fluent in it. Unfortunately, we aren’t.
The last year he has gained more English and less of his personal argot. For two years old, as he was then, he had quite a vocabulary. We were looking at a book about shapes, and he pointed to one and said, “That’s an oval.” I hadn’t quite gotten over the shock of that when he added, “And that’s a rhombus.” I quickly flipped through my own mental file card, trying to remember that one from high school math classes.
That morning after we got him out of bed, he turned to me and said, “Can I have bussenwuddy?”
I was stumped. Maybe I didn’t hear right, I thought. So I asked, “Bussenwuddy?”
His little eyes brightened and he started jumping in my lap. “Yes, yes! Bussenwuddy!”
Okay, now what? Bussenwuddy... I flipped through those file cards in my mind once again. What have I heard him talking about that sounds like bussenwuddy?
Finally it came to me. “Buzz and Woody?”
Another excited little bounce. “Yes, yes! Bussenwuddy. Can I?” He wanted to watch the Toy Story DVD. I felt like a successful grandmother--I had figured out what my two year old grandchild wanted. Do you think anyone but a grandparent would have tried so hard?
God is trying to talk to us every day. He has put it down in black and white. All we have to do is pick it up and read it. Some of us won’t even be bothered with that. Then there are the ones that will pick it up, but then put it back down in frustration. “I can’t understand this.” Well, how hard are you willing to try?
I have had women leave my classes because “They’re too much work.” Keith has had people complain about his classes because, “They’re too deep.” Really? I would be embarrassed to say such a thing if I had been a Christian for two decades or more.
Don’t I care enough about my Father in Heaven to put a little effort into it? It isn’t that He expects us all to be scholars, who love to put our noses in books for hours on end. But He does expect us to care enough to spend a little time at it. He expects us to be willing to push ourselves some.
No, it isn’t all as simple as, “Do this,” or “Do that.” Sometimes He throws a bussenwuddy in there (Matt 13:10-13; 2 Pet 3:16). But if you really care about communicating with your Father, if talking to Him really excites you, if He is the most important thing in your life, then you will exercise that file card memory of yours and flip through it occasionally, striving (a word that denotes effort, by the way) to learn what He expects of you.
You don’t have to be a genius with a photographic memory, but you do have to love your Father enough to be willing to work at building a relationship with Him. Pick up your Bible today, and show Him how much He means to you.
And he said to me, "Son of man, go to the house of Israel and speak with my words to them. For you are not sent to a people of foreign speech and a hard language, but to the house of Israel-- not to many peoples of foreign speech and a hard language, whose words you cannot understand. Surely, if I sent you to such, they would listen to you. But the house of Israel will not be willing to listen to you, for they are not willing to listen to me: because all the house of Israel have a hard forehead and a stubborn heart.