Mr. Bear, a.k.a. MaBear, a.k.a. Crusty Bear, a.k.a. Crunchy Bear, is my youngest daughters absolute favorite stuffed animal. This past weekend my wife Tiffany headed off with a friend to the Whatever Craft Weekend leaving me home with our three kids. My goal this weekend was to
brush their hair, make sure their teeth were perfectly clean, and that they house never once got messy. My goal this weekend was to have an absolute blast with the kids. I was determined to have the kids brag to their mom when she came home about me. I was on my way to accomplishing that, until I found out that Mr. Bear was possibly gone forever. I took the kids to see Paddington that night and I’m pretty sure that Mr. Bear came too. While tucking Leah into bed she said to me,
“Dad, I need my Crunchy Bear before I go to sleep.”
And all of a sudden, that’s when I realized, Mr. Bear was no where to be found.
UGH. What in the world was I going to do? I panicked. I ran to the car to find he wasn’t there. I searched under every cushion, and shook out every blanket on the couch–he wasn’t there either. I called the movie theater and left three voicemails just in case they didn’t hear my number the first time. I called the movie theater until someone finally picked up.
“Yes, hello. I have a bit of an emergency. Mr. Bear is gone. I was in theater 3, seated in row H, seats 1,2,3,4. Did anyone find a tan bear, he responds to Mr. Bear, Ma Bear, Crunchy Bear, and Crusty Bear.”
Okay, so I left off the “responds to bit”. But calling the movie theater was my final straw.
“Sorry sir, all I’ve got here is a my little pony.”
My heart sank into my toes. How was I going to look in my little girls eyes and tell her that her bear was gone? My heart was broken for her. I didn’t even want to tell my wife about it when she checked in with me that night. It was all too much for me.
But then I remembered—the kids had been playing in the basement. I flew down the steps and scanned the room to find Mr. Bear sitting up with his well worn, well loved neck flopped over still sipping on tea, just as he was earlier that day.
I sat on the couch that night thinking about how a stuffed bear caused me so much emotional heartache, and how this small cotton creature was able to captivate so much of my time. It reminded me of how my love for my daughter, and for each of my kids, is so strong that it would cause me to tear apart my house for a small stuffed animal. It reminded me of how much I love being a dad, and what a privilege it is to hold these kids hearts in my hands. It reminded me of how the smallest things often matter the most.
But I went to bed that night thinking about how much my Father in heaven loves me. If I love my kids that much, it is unimaginable for me to think about how much God loves me, and them! I thought of this verse,
You parents—if your children ask for a loaf of bread, do you give them a stone instead? Or if they ask for a fish, do you give them a snake? Of course not! So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him.
If God loves me more than I love my kids, than that is pretty incredible. And the same goes for you! You are loved by God more than you’ll ever know and He delights in providing even the smallest things for you. Sometimes it’s the small things that count far more than the big ones. And don’t you forget it.