The Blessing of Destructo-Boy

My son broke my iPad this weekend. In his hurry to get out of the car after an 8 hour trip, he dropped it face down on the driveway. He burst into tears and sobbed an apology. He was absolutely certain I’d be angry. I wrapped him in my arms, kissed his head and told him most of the truth, “It’s just a toy, an expensive toy, but a toy. You are infinitely more precious to me than it could ever be.”

I didn’t tell him the rest. I didn’t tell him that there was a part of me which was secretly amused. I had been expecting him to break it from the moment I had handed it back to him a few hours earlier. Minutes before that I had thought “I need to take an iPad fast when I get home. This thing is addicting.” It was then that I knew it was a matter of time before it would be cracked.

He breaks things, this son of mine, never on purpose or in anger, but that he breaks things has become an inevitable truth. To be specific, he destroys things which belong to me. The more I value something, the greater the likelihood that it will not last very long around him.

When he was three, he ate my wedding ring. Chewed it up into a ball of gold. Later that year, he snuggled under the afghan my grandmother made for my high school graduation gift. Scooby Doo was scary and he ate three holes in it that were too large to repair.

He dropped an heirloom bowl on the ground when he tried to pick it up and look at it. His hands were tiny and it slipped. He sat on the brand new couch to make a Mother’s Day card for me and accidentally cut a hole in the seat cushion. I had my wedding bouquet dried and framed and hanging on the wall. He hit it with the broom when he was sweeping. Those flowers turned to dust the second it hit the ground. The list goes on and on. The iPad is simply the latest in a string of accidental disasters.

There was a time when I would get angry or cry. (Finding the gold lump that was once my wedding ring left me in tears for days, I won’t lie.) I stopped crying a long time ago. I’ve come to see the beauty in his destructive ability. He is a gift to me from God. This child, this breaker of things, is the charming way God has chosen to break me of an attachment to material possessions. He is most certainly God’s gentle way of turning my focus away from things and back to the place where it belongs – Him and my family.

Nowadays when I hear that too familiar sound of something crashing to the floor, I stop for a brief moment and say a prayer of thanksgiving. This amazing kid I fondly call Destructo-Boy is one of the greatest gifts I have been given. He is my sanctification walking around. He is love and deep thoughts, joy and creativity that I am blessed to have living under my roof. And he is God’s reminder to me that stuff is just stuff, and not worth a thing when compared to the blessing that this son of mine is to me.