My son, my son!

“Is there any particular scripture story you want to read tonight, bud?”

“How about the one where King David’s son gets his hair caught on a tree and is killed?” You rack your brain. King David’s son? Absalom? Is that how Absalom dies? Yeah, that sounds familiar. But we only read that story one time, and it was at least six months ago. How does he remember it? At first you feel pride at having such a bright little boy, but then it hits you: If he can remember that, what else does he remember? You resolve to start behaving yourself better, lest your misdeeds be recorded on your Permanent Record.

1. And it was told Joab, Behold, the king weepeth and mourneth for Absalom.
2. And the victory that day was turned into mourning unto all the people: for the people heard say that day how the king was grieved for his son.
3. And the people gat them by stealth that day into the city, as people being ashamed steal away when they flee in battle.
4. But the king covered his face, and the king cried with a loud voice, O my son Absalom, O Absalom, my son, my son!

“Why do you think King David was so sad about Absalom dying, even though Absalom would have killed David if he had the chance?”

“I don’t know. Because he loved him?”

“Yes, because fathers always love their sons, no matter what they do. I will always love you no matter what, because you are my son. That’s why Heavenly Father loves us even when we do evil things. He just wants us to stop doing those things so we can be happy and live with Him.”

“He loves us because he’s our Father. And you love me because you are my father.”

“That’s right.” Oh, no, here it comes. You have to turn away, because you can’t let him see what an emotional sap you’ve become ever since he was born. He’ll find out eventually, but not yet. Just turn away for 2-3 seconds, pull it together, and pretend nothing happened.

But before you can turn back, you feel two little arms wrap tightly around your neck, and a tender kiss on the cheek. He knows.