My Three Year Old Self...

Jake's been running a fever since Saturday night.  In the wee hours of Saturday morning I began preparing myself for a no-church Sunday.

I don't like those very much.

I don't like being cooped up with a sick child, who tends to be extra demanding and even more difficult to reason with.  Oh, I love him to death.  And I would sit with him day in and day out if need be...you'd also likely find me cowering in a corner somewhere, rocking back and forth while sucking my thumb.  I'm just saying...

Anyways,  the kid looked miserable.  We're talking fever, flushed cheeks, dark circles, limp body...the whole nine yards.  None of this mattered to him.  All he knew was that he wanted more than anything to go to Sunday School.    He was insistent.  He stood in the mud room in his jammies and shoes pleading relentlessly for me to just let him go.

It's days like this that living in the parsonage right next to the church is NOT  exactly helpful.  He could hear everyone coming.  He could see the kids playing outside.  He stood at the window with tears streaming down his face...breakin' his mama's heart.

It blesses me to know he loves Sunday School so much.  I love that he wanted so desperately to be there.  I also knew all the valid reasons why he would need to sit this Sunday out.  Not only was he completely not up to it physically, he'd likely infect all the other little ones with his sickness.  And we all know what that cycle looks like in a little church.

As I watched him, in all his 3 year old stubbornness, I smiled because I knew his intentions were good.  Where and what Jake wanted was not the issue.  It was his condition that needed to change before he could go.  

I saw myself in him.  I saw myself standing in my mud room,  before my Heavenly Father, pleading my case on whatever it was (at the time) that I was convinced I was ready for.  Completely oblivious to my own physical, spiritual and emotional condition.   It was not pretty.

Just as I told Jake no, not this Sunday.  My Heavenly Father is saying, no...not yet.  He doesn't mean no, never...just not yet.  

And like my three year old, I eventually see that my will, no matter how big it is, is no match for the parent. 

Time to stop pleading and convincing God of something that He already knows I'm just not ready for.  Instead, I want to allow Him to show me what needs to change, what needs to be healed first, before He can allow me to move forward.  

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