Monday, May 29, 2017

Bedtime Chess

7:42 p.m. and the high-pitched wail resounds from the gate at the door of the bedroom. Tonight. Every night. My strong-willed, bedtime-loathing munchkin fighting the inevitable for the fifty-somethingth night in a row. What do they say about insanity, again? Repeating the same action and expecting different results? But insanity means nothing to that beautiful, chubby-cheeked little toddler who will not let even one lock of her bright blonde hair touch that pillow. I stand like a statue in the kitchen, fist clutching the broom, contemplating my next move against the Grandmaster of bedtime. Check...

Exasperated, I close my eyes and think about my Heavenly Father, and the times I fight against his plan. When I too fail to consider that His Ways are higher than my ways. When I scream for His Attention, begging Him to change His plans for my next minute, day, year, life... How does He respond to my wails against His Will?

He doesn't open the gate, "Have it your way!"
He isn't apathetic. He doesn't allow me to have the last word. He doesn't enable me, or console me when I stray from His plan. He doesn't let me think, for even one second, that I am in control.

He doesn't storm down the hallway, "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times!"
He isn't quick to wrath. He doesn't stretch out His hand to put me in my place. He doesn't take revenge, and He doesn't make me feel guilt over my actions. Even though I deserve it.

No.

He stops what He is doing and pursues me down the hallway. Wipes away my tears and wraps His arms around me. Guides me back toward the place where I'm meant to rest my head at that moment, and softly but unmistakably sings all the while, "no one will, ever love you, like...I...do..."

So I leave the broom on the floor, take a deep breath and begin to walk towards her...

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