My daughter is a dynamo. I don’t know what is about her, but like Rogue (of X-Men fame) she’s able to drain the life force out of me like no one’s business (those of your that are parents will understand).
A quick trip to Costo? “Daddy, can I come with you?”
A trip to the gas station?
A donut run?
“Daddy, can I come with you?”
Mostly, I say yes; sometimes, “No.”
Those “no’s” lead to much more more drama than I have energy for. So I usually relent. (But sometimes I do get my “revenge;” like today, when she asked what Girl Scout Cookies taste like. I said “Like rainbows and unicorn tears”).
Honestly, I’m thinking she’s just gonna be bored, but thankfully I have my wife, who reminds me that no matter how mundane the errand, our little sweetling just wants one thing from me: my time. (And my money, because as she let me know this morning, “Daddies are for paying”).
Candidly, this is an area where I fell far short when my son was her age. I didn’t get it. I would tell him that he could help me by doing what I asked him to–rather than helping me: unload the dishwasher, fold the clothes, whatever. “No, you go get your pajamas on. Let daddy finish.”
I would give him things–instead of myself. Which is just about the polar opposite of God.
I’m sorry, son. I know I’ve let you down.
Can we start again?
Which leads me to: how often do we treat God this way? Get our noses all out of joint when He offer us Himself–instead of the things we want?
Unlike me, Father does indeed always know best, and never has to apologize for giving what we need (and not what we want).
What do you think?
Can you think of a time when you were upset with God when He offered only Himself and you wanted something other)?