Crosspatch

My youngest great nephew, Caleb, turned 15 yesterday and both his parents posted a variety of photos celebrating his big day. This was one of those pictures and one I adore. It shows the unvarnished truth: a little boy who had much better things to do with his time than sit for a photograph! To be clear, Caleb is one of the most fun-loving people I know - he is usually sporting a big smile and about to toss off a joke, but in this split second of time, his discontent is clearly recorded.

Thinking about that moment motivated me to dig out this book from my childhood. Crosspatch by Helen and Alf Evers, tagged 2 for 25 cents at Clarks Department Store and inscribed  with my name and the date, 1967, in my Mom's hand. Was I a Crosspatch, too, at age 7?

My sister certainly was a Crosspatch. Here's a pic my Great Uncle Foster took of her when she, too clearly didn't want her picture taken. (It comes to no surprise, that just seeing this picture would turn her into an adult Crosspatch, but I've had  it framed and displayed in my china cabinet for years.  Like the picture of Caleb it holds such a special place in my heart.)

"Crosspatchedness" must surely run in my family. This picture of my younger son, Zack, as a grumpy baby at the beach is also one of my favs and is framed and displayed at our place at the beach. And again, Zack at a Parkwood United Methodist Church Halloween party clearly telegraphing "don't take my photo!"

Crosspatch, the little  lion in my Tip-Top Elf/Rand McNally Book has no friends which makes him even crosser, so much so that he has a big tantrum. Big enough to clear out all the visitors to the zoo. We learn that "Crosspatch knew there was only on way to get away from his crossness. And that was - NEVER to be cross again." That's a pretty good lesson for a 7 year old (though surely I was never cross?)

But the adult in me sees another, deeper, lesson. Because when we are at our crossest, our most irritated, our most human, that is when we are most needing to be loved.  It is when we are most hungry for a kind word, a hug, a cup of tea, or a listening ear.

And in public? We've all see Crosspatches in the wild, in line at the grocery store, pumping gas, sitting next to us at our kid's ballgame. What if, instead of returning crossness with crossness, we offer kindness instead? What if we let that person in line go in front of us? What if we smile at the woman in the pump and we complement our neighbor's kids?

That's radical love - it grace we are offered every day by God. We are seen with all our imperfections and loved perfectly anyway. It is the soft space of unconditional love. And the cost to us? Nothing.

The price is the same for us to return crosspatchedness with love. We've becomes a fragmented and vitriolic country. Perhaps  kindness and unconditional love is the best medicine we have to heal a hurting nation.

 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.   1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NIV)

Father, help us to always, everywhere, and unfailingly grant patience, kindness, and love to those we see around us everyday. Help us to grant that same grace to ourselves when we see a Crosspatch in the mirror.