My brother is a Marine vet from both the Iraq and Afghanistan campaigns. He is no longer the brother I knew. He is changed. For one, he suffered a non-combat physical injury that causes him continuous pain and debilitates him. For two, he suffers the emotional consequences of war. For three, he insists that he and God are not friends. He is angry at God and that anger has made him separate himself from prayer and Mass.
Despite it all, he has come home and is over at my house frequently helping me out while my husband is gone. What could possibly break down barriers that my brother has placed between himself and God? His two year old niece. He makes her lunch and sets her at the table and since he doesn’t pray before he eats, my two year old screams at him “pway! pway!” as she vigorously crosses herself. There he is–6 feet, 2 inches, humbled by a two year old, asking God to bless their food. I don’t smirk. I know how he feels.
The other night I was getting my daughter down to bed and she wanted her “unca” to come up and “pway” with us. And he did. He joined us in a prayer he had not prayed in a long while and I could see he was moved by it. There is something so sweet and pure to hear a 2 year old say the “Hail Mary.”
I realized upon further reflection that God came to us in the form of a baby. A baby is so harmless, so vulnerable, so sweet and tiny. It is easy to reject an adult’s point of view, but a baby? My daughter in a way is acting out the Incarnation, God With Us, to her Uncle. And watching her work on him, I better understand why God decided to come as the Child Jesus.
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