Seeing Me in My Kids

Return from Branson 04 This is from over two years ago after a day at White Water in Branson, Missouri.  The kids were a tad bit worn out. 

Yesterday I realized I needed to be out the door with the boys to get to an appointment, so I was trying to herd them out the door.  I stood in their bedroom and Keaton just happened to be the one I could see, about 25 feet from me, at the end of the hall.  I called to him because I had found some pants for him and wanted to get him dressed.  Now, understand, he didn’t know why I was calling to him.  I could have had a handful of chips or M & M’s; I could have wanted to surprise him with a new book or toy; I could have simply wanted to tell him something.  Whatever the reason, whenever I call to him to come I always have a reason and unless he knows that he is in trouble, it is always for his good.  But, what is most interesting and what made me think about myself and my relationship with God was what I saw and heard.  He said, “I’m coming.”  Meanwhile, his way of coming was to spin, around and around, and, yes, sure enough, he was inching toward me.  He literally was making progress that was measurable in inches, rather than footsteps, as he spun around and around, looking more and more like he was losing control of his equilibrium as he was becoming drunk on the fun of spinning.  I asked him to “come here” again.  And, of course, he answered with “I’m coming.” 

God then gently spoke to me that I was like that with Him.  Often.  He had an incredible plan and adventure for me and was calling to me.  Instead of simply hearing and coming to Him as requested, I was going about my “coming” in my own way–in the way that seemed right and fun to me.  I sometimes might not have a clue why He wants me to come to a certain place, but it never fails that His plan for me is a good one.  Nevertheless, I still cling to my stubborn ways.  I humbly thought of God looking down at me as though I were a five year old, twirling around and around, so la di da, as He patiently (because He is more loving than I) waited for me to respond to the blessing He had for me.  And I sighed. 

I’m so glad God blessed me with my children, because I see and hear myself so often through them and it never fails to have a lesson for me, a lesson to become more like Him rather than more like me. 

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