"Daddy, I just want to die"

By Jon Hagen

 

Last month the hot water in our house began to run red. Turns out that as a result of not draining the water heater annually, sediment had built up over the years and was now infiltrating our house each time we used hot water. I drained and flushed it numerous times, but to no avail. Everything from the inside of our dishwasher to our hair was being stained with stubborn South Carolina clay. Since replacing the gas heater would require more than pocket change, my wife and I put it off and talked about it for a week or more. Little ears were listening.

 

After taking yet another cold shower to avoid the bloody water, I finally decided the day had come to bite the bullet. As Tamarah and I stood in the kitchen discussing the problem, our ten year-old son walked in and said, “Daddy, you can use my money to get it.” He held out a five dollar bill for me to make the needed purchase. I replied, “Nick, buddy, that is very kind and generous of you. I really appreciate your wanting to help Daddy and Mommy. But it’s going to be okay. You keep your money; I have enough to get it.” As he turned to walk away, I saw clear water beginning to run down his face.

 

Since I was uncertain how to interpret his tear, I followed my son to his bedroom. What ensued was a spontaneous conversation that quickly turned significant. “Nick,” I said, “What’s the matter?”

 

After he gathered and composed himself, he said, “Daddy, life is hard.”

 

“It sure is, Son. Is there anything in particular that’s bothering you?”

 

He thought quietly for a few minutes, and I could almost see the list developing in his head. I knew then that needing to replace the water heater was just one of a number of things weighing on his little heart.

 

After talking about the list for awhile, I said, “Nick, you’re growing up to be a man.”

 

“I don’t want to be a man,” he said.

 

“Really? What do you want to be?”

 

Not answering my question, Nick said a second time, “Life is hard.”

 

At this point I’m thinking to myself, “Little buddy, you have no idea how hard it can get.” Running concurrently through my mind was a Bible verse my parents had me memorize when I was a boy: “Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near when you will say, ‘I have no pleasure in them’ ” (Ecclesiastes 12:1). My parents knew that the time to prepare real men for real life is when men are little boys. There are advantages to learning a second language when we’re young; when we’re older, it’s likely we never will get around to it. If children are taught the “second language” of Godward thinking and reminded of their Creator (the One who “upholds the universe by the word of His power”, Hebrews 1:3), then when trouble comes they’ll be less inclined to resort either to vibrant pride (“I can do it. Just leave me alone and I’ll figure it out.”) or defeated pride (“I can’t do it. It’s just too hard for me.”).

 

Having drifted from God and the Cross in his thinking, it wasn’t surprising that after another minute of silence Nick said, “I just want to die.”

 

At the intersection where my dirt-filled water heater bisected my son’s trouble-filled heart laid another opportunity to use the grace-filled Cross. I’m familiar with my son’s inclination to give up in the face of hardship: I too have my own ways of wanting to escape when pressure builds and it feels unbearable. Yet this is just another temptation “common to man” (1 Corinthians 10:13). So what is the way out?

 

There are a thousand ways to say it: those we love and care for (including ourselves!) need to hear daily God’s word concerning His Cross. As King David knew from experience, “God is to us a God of deliverances; and to God the Lord belong escapes from death” (Psalm 68:20 NASB). Did you catch the plurals? Deliverances. Escapes. God’s saving work among His people is ongoing and occurring every day; each struggle of every day provides another opportunity for the follower of Christ to either humbly “use the Cross” or resort to prideful efforts of self-deliverance.

 

For example, the Apostle Paul wrote, “The word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18). Interesting, isn’t it? When God justifies a person, He does so definitively. But that is only part of the larger saving work that God is achieving in His child. Based on 1 Corinthians 1:18, and other passages that say much the same thing, God’s saving work among His children is an ongoing project. This is the preserving work that Christ does in His family. Jesus clearly said, “All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out. And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day” (John 6:37, 39).

 

The Cross of Christ is what now connects me to His covenant promises. By reconciling believing sinners to Himself at the Cross, we now reap untold benefits through our standing in Him. That means I can humbly yet confidently say in age-appropriate words, “Life really is hard. The whole thing is broken. Everything that God means for good, from child-bearing to office work, is now laced with pain. Sin does that: it breeds death through pride and separates us from the only One who can both deliver us through and give meaning to our pain. Hard work is not our enemy, sin is. God is not mean; look again at what He did for you at the Cross. See His humility? See His power in conquering sin and death? See His mercy toward us who are party to His being murdered? Let’s not forget Asaph’s encouragement, ‘Call upon [the LORD] in the day of trouble; He will deliver you, and you will glorify Him’ (Psalm 50:15).”

 

“Let’s pray, Nick, and ask God again to give us grace through the Holy Spirit to do what we don’t want to do. He has promised to help us as we ask Him, and then as we begin our work with faith that He really will meet with us in it. Will you?”