Day 7

“So they drew near to the village to which they were going. He acted as if he were going farther, but they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent.” So he went in to stay with them.” (Luke 24:28-29, ESV)

“Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.” (Deuteronomy 6:4-7, ESV)

Trauma therapist K. J. Ramsey writes, “The most regulating thing for our nervous systems at any point of any day is co-regulation. Experiencing the presence of someone else with us who is kind emboldens us to face our fears with trust” (*).

Co-regulation: I think of my dog Charlie leaping into my arms when he hears thunder. My daughter, Corinne, wanting a hug when she wakes up. My son Jack verbally processing what angers him.

“Courage,” Ramsey says, “is choosing to commune with someone who has already chosen to be with us” (*).

God’s presence forms the stuff of any love song. Beginning in Genesis and ending in Revelation, he wants to be God with us, in our midst and getting a kick out of us (Zephaniah 3:17; Revelation 21:3).

God wants to rule with us. To abide. To stroll with us in the cool of the day again. To hover within us and over our chaos, drawing out order. To be the fourth man in the fires of our lives (see Daniel 3:16-26).

In Jesus, he could at last be Emmanuel not just physically on earth, but forever. God sought to restore his “with-ness”—signaled in a ripped Temple veil. Jesus “died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him” (1 Thessalonians 5:10, emphasis added).

And that enduring presence sets up ground-zero change in families.

Think of the men dialoguing on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-15), discussing the horror they witnessed around Jesus’ death. They articulate to a “stranger” not just their story but their epic loss. Walloped expectations. Confusion at the hands of friends. “But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. . . . Moreover, some women of our company amazed us. . . . They came back saying . . . he was alive” (verses 21-23).

These guys keep it real. They acknowledge what’s unfinished, the near-choking question marks curling around them.

And this flings open a door for Jesus to show up, speak directly to the places their hearts are bleeding, and change them forever.

As we “walk by the way” with our kids (Deuteronomy 6:7), can we do the same? Can we connect over what’s raw and vulnerable and messy to shape our families, weaving God’s truth into the fabric of our lives?

The power on the road to Emmaus wasn’t just an emotionally safe space for authenticity. It was the man who walked with them, received their story and dashed hopes, taught them, and talked with them to the point that they begged him to stay and eat with them (Luke 24:29-30). They describe their bodily emotional response: “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road . . . ?” (verse 32).

Perhaps more powerful than (their equivalent of) Sunday school or family devotions, connecting with each other and Jesus at this level proved nothing short of transformational.

Clearly, in the understatement of the year, God is an emotionally intelligent Parent. As we see on the road to Emmaus, the Author of love and emotion is present in his kids’ big feelings, which aren’t a threat but rather an invitation to care.

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.