Our soon-to-be-three year old, D.L. was riding beside his big brother, M., in their rechargeable jeep the other evening. M. skillfully maneuvered around the swing set, the flower bed, the patio. D. L. held on tight with one hand and waved the other over his head like a lasso.
"Ye-haw, cowboy!" he hollered. We adults couldn't help but laugh. They looked like two little men in a miniature automobile traveling the miniature terrain.
"Where in the world did he learn, 'Ye-haw'?" I asked. His mom shrugged her shoulders. She's anything but a ye-haw kind of girl.
The next day I asked D.L. himself. His nonchalant answer was, "On TV, Meme."
On TV. Somewhere, someday, on one of those cute little preschool programs (my guess is "Backyardigans," Lord) he had witnessed a similar scenario and heard the exuberant "Ye-haw!" response. And he didn't forget it. He kept it tucked neatly away in some cubicle of his brain for future use.
Filed away like everything else he hears and sees, smells and tastes, touches and feels. What an amazing creation, our brains. Lord, this one organ is astounding to me. To my brain. And it is probably such a simple little thing to You. But our brains retain every sensory experience and file it away for the future.
MRIs have opened our eyes to the complexity of our brains, and our intellectual and emotional processes. We can peek even deeper into Your marvelous creation now than we could fifty years ago. Yet, we haven't even begun to understand its labyrinth of wonders.
Amazing! Astounding! Incredible! This small organ that fills the space inside my skull. And it points me straight to its amazing, astounding, incredible Creator--You.
Oh, that thing you call your brain wasn't a trifle to Me, Little One. I planned carefully before I knelt in the dust and shaped Adam's body. I put careful thought into what to put inside his frame and yours. That brain works so marvelously because that's how I intended it to work.
No part of your physical body is accidental. Neither are you. No human is just the accidental product of some physiological function. You were planned. You were created and birthed in a specific place at a specific time in history for a specific purpose. You are no accident.
No one is an accident, Little One.
Each child born, or aborted, is one I planned. One I care for. One I long to have a relationship with. And, just as no organ or system of your body is disposable, Little One, so no human is disposable.
There are no throw-away people. Each one is precious to Me.
I wish you could all-from those living in the humblest of circumstances to those sleeping in the White House-remember that as you relate to each other.