Those were the words I heard seconds before my dear Kait, who is as shrill as a tornado siren on a clear day, came running into the office screaming to tattle on her brother. “He… (sob)… said… (sob)… it… (sob)… wouldn’t (sob)… HURT!!!!” and the tears start rolling all over again.
I have a rule. I must repeat it a thousand times a day. They must break it a thousand and one. “Keep your hands to yourself.” They always ask why and the answer is always the same, “Because someone is going to get hurt.” And every single time, someone does.
I think being a parent I get a glimpse into the heart of God every once in a while. I imagine God must have felt that way in the Garden. I mean, He’s God after all. He knew Eve was going to take a bite of that forbidden fruit. But He still said it, “Keep your hands to yourself. Don’t touch!” I imagine if Adam & Eve had taken the time to ask why, God’s response would have been a lot like that I give my kids, “Because someone is going to get hurt.” But they go ahead and do it anyway. Frustrating. Maddening. Heartbreaking.
There are days that I get tired of saying, “Don’t touch.” But I keep saying it over and over and over again. Because I don’t want my kids to get hurt. I love them enough to give them fair warning. I can’t even imagine how sick of saying, “Don’t touch!” God must be. He’s been saying it since the beginning of time. That’s a whole lot of “Don’t touch!”