“Bean Bean”
Four-year-olds (or maybe just my four-year-old), have a shocking ability to fixate on things. Gone are the days of distracting an upset toddler with a set of keys or an episode of Miss Rachel. When my boy wants something, he will move heaven and earth to make it happen. Sometimes it’s a good thing, like figuring out how to parallel park his ride-on electric car or how to effectively drive his RC car (it’s always car related).
Other times it’s wildly frustrating, such as when it’s time for bed and he decides he needs a particular stuffed animal out of the approximately 276,000 he has in his bed, and the one he wants is the smallest and nowhere to be found, and he will not sleep till we find it.
Ever since he’s been able to speak little babbles, he has referred to his baby blanket as “Bean bean.” Yeah — we don’t know either. “She” (he insists the blanket is a female) goes everywhere. There is no sleep or comfort without it. It’s what tucks him in at night, sits on the couch with him, and warms him in chilly restaurants. Let’s just say it used to be white.
One fateful day we accidentally left her (Bean Bean) in a friend’s car when we unloaded at the airport. We didn’t realize till we entered security and it was too late. The shrieks of realization were otherworldly, enough to liquefy your knees and beat down your spirit. I’m honestly shocked we weren’t stopped by security to make sure we weren’t kidnapping him.
The very presence of that nasty scrap of cloth, for reasons known only to children, is the thing that gets him through each day. When he skins his knee or experiences sadness, the first words wailed out of his mouth is, “BEAN BEAN.” If he has her, he feels like everything is going to be okay.
In a weird way, adults don’t really graduate from this tendency. We all run to something when we’re hurting, lonely, scared, or frustrated. Things, experiences, food, home, anything can become a crutch that we fixate on to help us feel okay. They’re not all bad, but those things, much like Bean Bean, are fleeting. They can’t give us the peace, security, and certainty we are truly looking for, and in the light of day we discover that all those things are as stained and tattered as my son’s blanket. They reveal our need for something eternal and constant.
There’s only one person that can fill this void and actually give our souls what they’re looking for. Not only has Jesus solved our most basic needs for salvation, but He promises to be with us at all times. His call to His people is the same today as it was the day He first said it: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28).
The way we stay faithful and steadfast in trials is by simply accepting His offer. Put your faith in the one who walks with you amidst it all. I remember writing the verses of this song as a prayer of hope in that promise, hope in the fact that I bring nothing to the table and Christ is all. Time and time again I discover my own not-enough-ness, and each time God is faithful to show me a new depth of Christs sufficiency, reminding me that, in a cosmic sense and a day to day sense, Christ is my everything.
C.S. Lewis said “do not let your happiness depend on something you may lose.” The good news for us today is “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Heb. 13:8).
Written by: Danny Nathan, Worship Director