Jonah got sick Friday night. Not the throwing up kind, but rather a boiling fever that wouldn’t give up. So Saturday morning, we took him to the doctor.

Now, anyone who knows my son knows that doctor visits are bad.
“Oh, all kids hate the doctor,” you say.

No. When it takes Krist, me and Dr. Fidone just to hold the kid down, we’ve got a problem. I mean, come on, even the doctor is impressed by Jonah’s strength.

When all was said and done, it was decided that Jonah had a pretty bad ear infection. We paid up and got out. Kristen got out at Randall’s to get medicine while Jonah and I circled the parking lot. After a few minutes of driving, I looked back to check on him and it happened.

My heart broke. He looked so sad, so miserable. Dark circles under the eyes, his little Batman action finger clasped in his little hand (which bore a band-aid from the blood test,) his eyelids drooping as he fell asleep.

And at that moment, I realized something. I would do anything for him. He’s mine. I made him. He’s part of me, and there’s nothing that I wouldn't do if I knew it would take care of him. If I knew buying a comic book would make him feel better, I’d clean out Waldenbooks. If I knew $8000 medicine would clear up his infection, I’d start selling stuff that second.

A couple of nights ago, I found a blog of a church member who was talking about “Above All,” the award-winning worship song from a few years back. While I readily admit the song has some problems (primarily in the thematic line and some problems with tense,) I was amazed once again at the standard response to this song that I tend to hear so often.

This lady, like many, has a problem with the song. That it’s a me-centered song. Maybe she’s right…maybe if we all sing “Above All,” we are greedy, selfish hogs careening down the slippery slope of hedonism. Maybe we’ll wake up in some gutter one day, clutching a wrinkled picture of the family we lost, grimy tears crawling down our oily faces…

“If I just hadn’t sung Above All….that’s where it all went wrong.”

Okay, I went off a bit there. Sorry.

But here’s the thing…how can we say that Jesus didn’t think of us? Do we know? And if we don’t know, does that mean that we somehow think its impossible for the Son of God to both fulfill the price His Father required AND actually love each of us before He even knew us?

I don’t know. All I know is that I’m a daddy, and when my child needs me, I’d do anything to meet those needs. And I’m human. Imperfect. Flawed.

How much more will our Father in Heaven do for us?