For this week’s post, I’m ordering a sweet Riesling. It’s been hot here and something chilled and sweet sounds so refreshing.
I didn’t study the ancient texts, but all versions of that verse saying we should have the faith of children– the word “children” is never translated “toddlers”. We’re never called to be God’s Toddler (even though, as you can see from this pic, they ARE super cute). Never are we asked to become like a toddler in our demonstration of faith.
And as a parent of a toddler, I so get it.
My turn! My turn! My Little Sir vaulted from the backseat to the driver’s seat of the truck the other day. “My turn!” He announced. I was stunned and amused. And made sure he didn’t have the keys. I’ve certainly barged ahead with a boldness that might be a tiny bit adorable, but given the keys– terrifying.
Smell the Radiator When my sister was two, she bolted from the walkway towards the street. It was just one of those inexplicable things toddlers do. The thing was, we lived on one of the busiest streets in town (North El Dorado for Stockton readers). I remember my mother screaming and I took off running after the speedy blur barreling in the opposite direction (if you don’t have a toddler, they’re quicker than you’d think). I can still remember the smell and heat of the car’s grill. Inches from us. Did my sister cling to me in gratitude? No, she screamed as though I had ruined everything. Her life was OVER because I had caught her. She, of course, had no clue that she had just been saved from a much worse fate. My grip on her saved her. Sometimes I think God must think the same when I throw the equivalent of a tantrum because I didn’t get where I was headed. Convinced my life is ruined- RUINED I TELL YOU- disregarding the possibility God might be protecting me from a worse fate. Saving me.
Want. Now. More. If I let Little Sir decide our day, it would be cookies at every meal and the movie “Cars” all day long. While playing cars. At the park. He has no sense of balance, order or flow. His world is based on Now. I am hungry NOW. Tired NOW. Playing NOW. If it’s not now, it’s MORE. I want MORE. And often it’s both: MORE NOW.
I think I probably do this in my faith. I’m not good with all that “Let it unfold” stuff. “Let go, Let God.” Or “In God’s Own Timing.” Ugh! That’s the worst! Want. Now. More.
Whadayathink? Any other examples about a toddler-like faith?
Next week: Be God’s Toddler
When a certain daughter of mine was a little bit older than Little Sir—three or four—she would become obsessed with a particular movie or book and want to act it out. ALL DAY LONG. If she was Jane, Daddy would have to be Mr. Banks while I was Mary Poppins and baby brother was Michael. I really wondered sometimes whether she could actually distinguish between reality and fantasy.
I’m guilty of wanting the world to conform to my fantasy. I want everything to be fair and have a happy ending. I want my Prince Charming to be not only good but gorgeous and rich. If I have to endure a few trials, I want to be rewarded for them SOON—within the two hours of a movie, preferably—with a castle in the air.
Got to stop now before I ruin my own possible future blog post. 🙂
I want to see you be Mary Poppins too!
Dang, that kid’s gotten even cuter. How do you stand it? 😉
Our toddlers provide us with such sweet and terrifying memories. Is God terrified by our actions, I wonder? We’re such train wrecks at times. Okay, here’s a funny one. Like Katherine’s daughter, my niece really absorbed stories. She didn’t compel others to play along, she just played along with the opportunities presented her. One instance was when she was at the park playing with her mom, and a woman came by (probably her mom’s acquaintance) and shared an apple. Sarah bit into it, then said faintly, “Oh, I feel strange…” (Disney’s rendition of Snow White!)
Susan, I love that thought. I tense and gasp at the terrifying leaps my son makes- does God do the same when I make the adult-equivalent moves?
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