The other day, I got six kids dressed, brushed, fed, and dropped off at their three different schools; cleared the table, threw some laundry in, pulled something dinnerish out of the freezer, and settled down for some frantic writing before a dentist appointment.
I had gotten maybe four words down when my daughter toddled over with a toddler problem—something like, “Mama, I bited my banana and now my banana is bited and now I need a new banana.”
So I stormed, “YES. Absolutely. Let me GET UP from my chair and fix your problem RIGHT NOW because it’s SO IMPORTANT that I stop working RIGHT THIS MINUTE.”
And she gave a happy little hop and said, “Fanks, Mama!”
Ouch. That laid me low pretty quick. She had every right to expect me to care for her, but instead I had spewed this dreadful sarcasm into the trusting little face of someone too innocent to realize I was upset.
I’m pretty sure I’ve had this same conversation with God. I know that God is good and merciful, I should praise and thank Him for His wondrous kindness, blah blah blah. But more often than not, when I get myself to say the words I’m supposed to say—well, they’re not so sincere. If you listen closely, my prayer goes, “YES. Absolutely. Let me THANK YOU for all the wonnnnnderful things in my life, which, as You can see, have made this world SO fabulous and SO blessed.”
And He says in all seriousness, “You are welcome.”
Or I say, “All right, fine, I’m SUPER sorry for the following sins, because clearly it would be COMPLETELY JUST for you to throw me into ETERNAL HELLFIRE for breaking these rules which are not even SLIGHTLY arbitrary or unreasonable.”
And He says, “I forgive you.”
Ouch.
No comments:
Post a Comment