A couple of weeks ago, my 7-year-old had some minor but potentially painful surgery. We spent much of the day Wednesday at the children’s hospital before returning home after 8 that evening. Because he was still woozy from the anesthesia, there wasn’t a whole lot for us to do that night: just wake him up a few times, hold his head up while he took his pain medicine, and tuck him back in.

The next morning came and Jana began our regular routine of delivering the other children to school and Mother’s Day Out. I was left with Joshua, alternating between brief times on my computer answering email and writing, building Lego dinosaurs, and refreshing cups of Gatorade. So went the first hour of our time alone together, when Joshua stopped me in my tracks as I was throwing away his Kleenexes and getting another does of pain medicine:

“Daddy, are you tired of getting things for me yet?’

I assured him that I wasn’t. But there was more in my heart to say:

“You are my son. I’ll never get tired of getting things for you. It’s my great joy to provide what you need, and really, even though you don’t like days like this, I actually sort of enjoy them. Not because you’re feeling badly, but because it gives me a chance to bring you things. I delight in doing this for you. Because I love you so very, very much.”

I didn’t say all those things, mainly because as soon as he said his thing, his 7-year-old attention was diverted to something else. But the question stuck with me. And I couldn’t help but wonder if God’s heart ever breaks the way mine just did:

– Are You tired of me asking you how to be a good father yet?

– Are You tired of me asking for wisdom about schools and relationships for my children?

– Are you tired of extending me grace because I’ve lost my temper again?

– Are you tired of me waking up, day after day, and not knowing the right thing to do and needing help?

I suspect His heart does break, and I suspect it breaks for the same reason mine did. It’s not because He’s tired of getting things for me. Not at all. It breaks because there might be a fleeting thought in His child’s mind and heart that He might someday become so.