I am not one of Daniel’s favorite people, a fact well established in our house. He is here for his safety and nurturing. Pawpa, second only to his mommy, and Ashley, his aunt, are all that is here with us now.

Saturday, the family had gathered for a yard work day and we had sit down to dinner. Daniel is usually seated next to me, for cutting his meat or mashing food for him. I also represent the hand of correction in his life, right now. So, I am not his favorite.

Though, I am also the hand of comfort, when no one else is around, and apply balm to his hurts. Before Ashley came to stay, I was the one that he wanted to read books and play games with.

Before the gang moved out, last month, Daniel had grandma, grandpa, Rachael, his mommy (sometimes), Ashley, uncle Dale and (of course) pawpa and me … if every one else was gone.

When Daniel came here, he came equipped with a few bad habits, one of which is spitting. How I hate that. Yet, often times, I seem to be his favorite receptacle when he is mad or frustrated with his life.

I understand he is upset and feels abandoned by his mother, who is a on again and off again visitor (when the spirit moves her).

Well, any way, on this day.

We had sat down to eat. Daniel had a glass of pop and he was playing let it drool from the mouth, a game he must have learned somewhere. I told him to stop it. Well, the next swig of pop he spit all over me and my clothes. I just got up from the table, went to my room, and let pawpa do the correcting, which he did. But, I am sure the reason was lost on Daniel, who went screaming off to his room.

I understand that he must act out. He doesn’t have the vocabulary to tell us what he feels. Daniel does throw things, and I mean hard.

I was upset for all the love I have for the little guy. He doesn’t return it like I would like. I often wondered if my own children liked me. Lol

Hurt and so upset, I went to my room to hide the tears in my eyes. While I was there, feeling rejected and so shoved out, the Lord was in the room with me and I could see His face, clearly. He was bleeding and there were great tears coming down His face … and it wasn’t from the crown of ugly thorns that had been crushed down upon that precious head.

He felt my tears and heart ache, but also showed me what He suffered that day ~ when those (He not only loved, but had created) spit on Him, scorned Him, and had Him scourged; for nothing that He had done wrong.

His pain was not the reason for the tears and he was telling me so, right then and there. “Oh my precious Lord,” I prayed. “I am so sorry for that. I understand it better, now, and how the spit was still on your face when they hung you up there.” I felt like He was saying to me, “Even Christian’s, today (when they are disobedient), have, in some way, spit in my face. I believe the Bible says, when we do wrong, we crucify Him again.

One thing I learned in life, is that you cannot make some one love you. Love isn’t forced. It is earned and deserved. I can only hope someday, when I am gone, that Daniel will find a love for me, which he just doesn’t have right now.

The family tried to make him apologize. But, I stopped that. I believe it is wrong to teach children to say ‘I am sorry’ if they aren’t. What we are teaching is that a few, well chosen, words can appease. Then, we have learned to lie and taught that this is alright.

Forgiven? O, yes. That goes, with out question, for Daniel. But, would I do that for others that I love or even those I don’t? I am not like Jesus, not yet anyway. Forgiveness, for being spit upon, would be very hard for me. With God’s grace, maybe I would be able.

But now, after this experience, I can only stand in awe of my Lord. With spit running down His face, He prayed, “Father, forgive, for they know not what they do.”

I don’t sit at meals with Daniel, right now, as I feel he needs to eat with out getting into trouble. He has had so much grief in his short life that I don’t want to add to it.

Christ created little Daniel and he is such a blessing to us. I am not the cause of his pain and frustration. I am the recipient of his anger and, now, I understand the suffering of my Lord much better.

It seems strange to see that, through the very act of spitting, the Lord let me learn a lesson about His own suffering … putting things in perspective. Yet, He loved us anyway.

Let His name be praised. Love from Sandy ssgriffin@qconline.com