"GIVE ME MY ROCK!!" I hear the screams before I round the corner to see my oldest demanding his latest scavenged find from his brothers’ tight fist. Tears soon joined the party as I tried my best to coax the rock from my youngest grasp. Even while I worked my best mama magic, Lincoln continued to wail pleads of
desperation, for his rock, over my voice.
Motherhood in a moment, am I right?
Once the rock was finally returned to its rightful owner and all was right in the world again, I took my big boy aside for a talk. "Buddy, you trust mommy, right?" Slow nod, "Yes I do." He murmured. "Then, when I was trying to help get your rock back, why did you keep trying to grab it from Owen? I was right there helping you, but you weren't letting me do my job."
Hello conviction! Even as the words tumbled from my lips, I knew God was gently speaking into my heart that I too am like this brash young boy. I claim to trust God, even pray over all my burdens and cares, claiming to leave them at the cross. But I am so desperate for the treasure in someone else hand that I don't stop and actually let God work. I am so assured I can do better than God, I yell above him, plead and cry. Even after I have asked his help, my actions don't speak of a child at peace. I still reach, pry and micromanage how God reacts to the situation. If God isn't acting fast enough in my situation, well I'll just jump in and try again. Clearly, he isn't doing it right.
This isn't the first time God has used my children to teach me something. I know it won't be the last time. More often than I would like to admit, my actions resemble my child. But instead of heaping shame on myself, I see grace in this moment and I am thankful for the very clear point God is making to me. Reminding me that when I call on him for help, as my father, he will always come to my rescue. He will go to battle for me. Securing the desires of my heart. Drying my tears and reassuring my fears. This is who he is. These are guarantees to any daughter of the King.
Today, when I once again, asked my son for trust, I feel God asking me for mine. In all that I sit panicked about, in all the tears I have cried over the unknown, he has been there working. I don't need to stand in the corner hopeless. I don't need to shed another tear. I can trust God will come through for me as he has promised. Whatever that "rock" is that has been stolen from me, he will return. And if not that dream, then whatever he gives I know will be his best, which is always ten times better than what was taken.
So, the only question left is not from me, but your heavenly father. He looks at you with compassion and love, already armed for battles far beyond your capacity, and he says, "Beloved, will you trust me? I am right here waiting to help you. Let me do my job. Let me be the dad. I will fight for you; you just need to be still."
Photo Credit Julia Costanzo Photography
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