I Bet You Can't Catch Me

I know what it means when my little son says that.

"I bet you can't catch me!"

I know what that means. But first let's review what it doesn't mean.

It doesn't mean he thinks he's faster than me. He's not, and he knows it.

It also doesn't mean he thinks he's stronger than me... smarter than me... It doesn't mean any of that. He's not planning on winning this competition. Not by speed. Not by strength. Not by agility or cunning.

No. He expects to lose. In fact, he hopes to lose. That's his goal.

"I bet you can't catch me!"

Yes, I know what that means.

It means he yearns for intimacy with his father. And he wants it now. I know all this. And it makes me glad when he says those words.

Yes, these words are a playful invitation. But there is an underlying current of danger, too. You see, my son hopes very much to lose....

But he's also worried that he will win.

Winning means he is alone. Unloved. Unwanted.

Winning means he is not worth chasing.

So when my son throws up this challenge, a lot is at stake, and timing matters. I must respond like a surfer who just got word that the waves are perfect. I must drop everything and take up the chase. Now. Even a five minute delay will come with costs.

These opportunities don't happen every day. In fact, as I was writing this reflection, I took a break to see this same son off to the school bus. He was most definitely in no mood to be chased. Yesterday? Yes. Today? No.

But this reflection is not actually about my son. It's about my Father.

Our story begins on a sofa where I was reading a few pages each from two separate books earlier this morning.

I read first about the Azusa Street Revival from Richard Foster's Streams of Living Water. Wow, that would be awesome. To be touched by God's Holy Spirit as those people were. Reading about it just makes you hungry!

I read next from Philip Yancey's Reaching for the Invisible God:

"In the interest of full disclosure, I also must confess that I have little personal experience of the more dramatic manifestations of God’s presence. I have sat in prayer meetings in which everyone around me saw this as a grievous flaw and beseeched the Holy Spirit to come down and fill me."

I yearn for that Azusa Street experience. I want a powerful intimacy with God. Sadly, I've never seen Azusa Street. I live on Yancey Drive.

As I sat by myself on a sofa quietly reflecting once again on this reality, I got more than a little frustrated. I wanted to taunt God like an atheist.

"I dare you to douse me in the Spirit!"

As soon as this urge entered my mind, I hurriedly began to usher it out. That's usually what I do. After all, God is not someone you want to mock.

But this morning as I was ushering these frustrated challenges out the back door of my mind, I suddenly remembered my son's sassy taunt.

And realized that I have been wrong by at least half.

If I know what my child means when he taunts me this way... If I love to hear his mocking words... If I respond by initiating a joyful chase?

How much more will my God in heaven be able to see past the taunt and cherish the hidden meaning? And also the hidden fears.

Yes, God wants me to taunt him. He wants me to do so with the expectation that I will lose.

Well, along with Yancey I'm still very much afraid that I will win. I have a long winning streak behind me. That's my reality.

But I'm suddenly feeling a lot safer in offering up the wager, and that's good.

Therefore let the cosmos ring with my bold challenge to God...

"I bet you can't catch me!"