“Can* I do it?”
It is every parent’s favorite question of a child, especially when urgency calls or efficiency demands that mom or dad fix/cook/bake/etc. it ASAP. We’re torn between responding with a “next time” and just getting it quickly completed ourselves or, letting junior jump in and help, knowing full well that doing so will require two things:
- Extreme patience
- More extreme patience
- The willingness to either
a) finish what your “helpful” child got bored with after approximately 2.34 seconds and instead decided to go off and annoy his sibling who was playing perfectly peacefully all on his own with his little toy that kept him occupied and out of trouble but who now is screaming bloody murder because formerly “helpful” child knew with astounding efficiency which button of his to push in record time – about 2.34 seconds, ironically, or
b) undo and/or redo whatever “helpful” child ultimately “contributed” to the initial task at hand.
(I suppose there is also the possibility in the above scenario that the “helpful” child does, on occasion, actually help, does an excellent job, and we’re thrilled to have spent the quality time together with our kid, but
- we want to do everything we can to avoid giving our kids a big head,
- the scenario in which the helpful child does get it right doesn’t actually serve in any way to help me make the point at which I am eventually going to arrive,
- I think we can all agree that the outline above was getting ridiculously out of hand and went well beyond the initial “two things” promised,
- oh dear, I’m doing it again.)
So where am I going with this? Glad you asked, one person who is still reading this.
The tendency of our children to ask, “Can I do it?” is not unique to children. In fact, it is the very same question – or rather insistence – that each and every one of us has in our relationship with God. We are naturally wired to think that we can do something, anything – big or small – to buddy up to him and establish some sort of pleasing partnership or real relationship with him. We’re not so interested in what He has to say about it; we know that we want to contribute and, by golly, we’re going to help.
There’s just one problem: our “help” isn’t actually helpful at all. In fact, it doesn’t count for anything. Ever. God says quite clearly that your “good enough” isn’t good enough (cf. James 2:10).
“Can I do it?”
The answer is no. You can’t.
But… that’s only the first part of the answer. It gets better. Here’s the rest of God’s answer to the question, “Can I do it?”:
“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast” (Ephesians 2:8,9).
He already did it. By grace.
Let that be enough, and stop trying to “help.”
*Attention grammar police: I can relate to the consternation you no doubt experience when encountering a “Can” in place of a proper “May.” I share your pain. Please excuse it just this once… as well as any future posts in which grave grammar offenses will undoubtedly occur.
