Following Boris' announcement last night I was filled with anxiety, particularly around the school information. Now, I know this information was vague, I know it doesn't affect my kids personally; Ruby is Year 2 and Joel is meant to be finishing up his year at nursery. I know that there will be huge pressure from parents, teachers and educational bodies to get this right.
But staring me in the face was the feeling that our Government - yet again - does not have the best interests of its most vulnerable members at heart.
But five year olds aren't vulnerable, right? They might not be at the most risk of catching the disease, but they are vulnerable. Vulnerable because they are simply unable to take the distancing measures that the rest of us are able to take. Vulnerable because the very people who are placed in government to protect them, are intent on placing them in situations where no one can look them in the eye and tell them they're safe. Vulnerable because they don't have the capacity to process the threat, risk and emotion that comes with venturing out of their homes and into the unknown. Vulnerable because they live with and are cared for by vulnerable people - and what happens to them if those people get sick? By any other standard in society, a five year old is vulnerable simply because of their age. As is a four year old. As is a seven year old. Children are, by their very nature, vulnerable.
Anyway... what do we do when we are faced with placing our babies in the hands of decision makers when we're not quite sure, or we can't quite trust that they have their best interests at heart?
We place them in the hands of the Father.
We might be struggling as we are weighing up what we know, with what we feel and trying to balance it with the unknowns of life at this time. We are reassuring our children of their safety but we look them in the eyes and tell them that even though they've spent the last two months staying indoors to 'stay safe', there might come a time when they have to go to school even though Mummy's not allowed back to work yet... even though we can't see Nana yet (I don't know about you but my seven year old is more than capable of seeing the flaws in that logic).
What do we do?
We place them in the hands of the Father.
His hands. His hands are big enough and strong enough to carry our children. They are aged and beautiful and sturdy and firm with wounds from the nails that Jesus bore. They comfort and they lead and they guide; they are gentle but powerful and are forever reaching out and they are the hands that bring peace in impossible situations. None of us know what the future holds, but when all hell is breaking loose, when the powers that be don't appear to be listening, when the ministers appear to be living in a different world to the rest of us, when confusion reigns, it is the hands of the Father that can carry it all and never let go. We may not know what tomorrow looks like, but we know what God is like.
He loves your children more than you do. Yes you, your child's biggest advocate and fiercest protector, He loves them more than you. He created them. He knew them before time began. He has counted every hair on their head and He sings over them in the night. He loves them.
Does that mean that no harm will come to them? You and I both know that there is no promise of a struggle-free life. But it does mean that He holds them throughout. The things that break your heart, break His. The things that you worry about, are on His heart before they've even occurred to you.
God can be trusted with your children.
So join me in placing them in His hands today. There's no safer place.
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