An Epiphany: From the Mouth of Babes

I love the word “epiphany”. It’s on my “Favorite Fun Word” list. Webster has several definitions of epiphany, but I like this one best: an intuitive grasp of reality through something (as an event) usually simple and striking. I don’t always like getting epiphanies because they sometimes reveal to me that I’m not doing all I can to be the woman God wants me to be. I’m usually aware of that fact anyway, but it can be staggering when you feel as though God has just told you so.

When I began my career in education, I was a behavior coach with just one student. A 5 year-old boy I’ll call Sonny. What a job, huh? To be responsible for just one little kid, right? Wrong. He was beyond challenging. He threw tantrums like I had never seen a child throw. He screamed, swore, was destructive, and sometimes would carry on until he made himself physically sick. My job was to help him change his behavior. Now Sonny had some health problems that contributed to him throwing fits the way that he did, so I had my work cut out for me. Over time though, Sonny improved. His fits diminished, he could exert more control over himself, and was starting to learn things that his condition had prevented him from doing before. However, one of Sonny’s signature behaviors was the “standoff”. It was a maneuver he would resort to in an effort to control his surroundings a given moment. In a standoff he would be throwing a tantrum while running away. I learned that if I didn’t chase him, he’d come looking for me because he needed to be engaging with me in order to achieve his goal. As long as he could see me, he’d stay put while screaming his head off--”Come to me! Help me stop crying! Talk to me!” If I tried to move closer to him, he’d move away. So I had to get him to come to me instead. What I would do is speak to him calmly and say to him, “When you come to me I will help you.” Then I would wait. Eventually, he would come on his own, we’d process and move on.

He is now 8, and has come a long, long way from where he was before. But every once in a great while he resumes some of his former behaviors. A few months ago, we saw an encore of the standoff. I found myself with him out in the hall, waiting for him to come to me so I could help him. As I sat there waiting and watching him, I had an epiphany. I looked at Sonny and saw myself. Over the past several years, I have wrestled with different issues and have been terribly frustrated over my lot in life. I would ask God, “Why me? Why did you have to give me this affliction? Why don’t You just fix me?” I wanted God to help me, to heal me, and everytime God moved towards me, I moved away while crying and pleading for His help. I wanted it on my terms. What Sonny had to learn was that he needed to take some responsibility in the process of getting his needs met and that was by ending the standoff and submitting himself without force or intervention on my part. In that moment I realized I must do the same thing. God has been waiting patiently to heal me. I must take some responsibility in the healing process and submit myself to Him so that He can. The words of Isaiah 55:8 swept over me, “My ways are not your ways.” In all those pleading prayers, I hadn’t really wanted to do what was required of me to achieve restoration and renewal. I knew that it would be hard and painful and I wanted to skip to the the completion phase. The only way to truly heal, be restored, and find renewal is God’s way. While it is hard and hurts, as all true healing must, He sustains us and provides times of comfort.

It was a hard truth to acknowledge, suddenly there right in front of me. But as I held Sonny in my arms drying his tears and soothing him, I realized the end result would make all the painstaking work worth the effort--to be complete in the arms of my God.