Learning lessons from my little ones is humbling.
My little guy had the honor of being the teacher tonight.
Is it possible that I'm doing none of the teaching in my family and all of the learning?
I'm beginning to wonder...
He was mad.
My two-year-old found his cookie, aka "tookie," on his bookshelf right as I was putting him to bed. He must have left it there earlier in the day because his eyes lit up like he'd found a long lost treasure.
"My tookie. My tookie. I eat my tookie."
His teeth were brushed, his jammies on, and my rocking chair waiting.
I was totally not in the mood to watch his teeth fill with chocolate goo and witness the smears of cookie mush decorate his jammies. Not to mention that it would delay bedtime and I really just wanted to get him to bed.
"No cookie tonight. We'll put it on the counter and you can have it tomorrow."
"Tookie. Tookie. Tookie." The word got louder and more frantic each time he spoke. He sensed it was being taken away.
We took the cookie down to the kitchen and set it on the table so he could have it for breakfast. Yes, breakfast. Don't judge.
The howls started as soon as we headed back up the stairs. Big tears.
His heart broken over this cookie that we left on the counter.
If he could have articulated his feelings, I'm sure he would have said,
"This isn't fair!"
"I didn't get to finish it earlier."
"I don't want to wait."
"I want it now!"
"Don't you love me?"
"Why can't I have it?"
"I don't understand!"
"I'm soo mad at you!"
"Why won't you listen to me?"
Curiously, as he yelled and sobbed, he threw himself toward me.
Not away from me. Toward me.
He fell down at my feet and clung to my legs.
I was the source of his frustration, yet instead of running from me, he came to me.
It was like he knew that while I was doing something he didn't understand, I was really the only one that could comfort him.
He wanted love from me in the midst of his anger at me.
He cuddled in and cried and cried.
Still furious, yet wanting only me.
I rocked him and pondered his precious response.
He didn't understand what I was doing by withholding the cookie and he certainly didn't like it, but yet he chose my arms to rest.
How often do I not understand God's ways...
Or I'm frustrated by something only He controls...
Or I know He could snap his fingers and fix the situation instantly, but He delays for a reason beyond my comprehension...
Or I'm waiting on an answer to prayer that doesn't seem to come...
Or the answer has come and I don't like it...
What do I do at those moments?
My little Noah gave me a beautiful picture of the way I'd like to respond when God doesn't work the way I think He should.
I should throw myself at His feet and seek comfort from the very One that I don't understand.
Because if I really believe that He is who His Word says He is, there's no where safer to find comfort...
In time, my sweet baby will probably turn away from me in anger, but what a gift to be able to hold and comfort---just for a moment---the little one that was so mad at me...
I wonder if the Lord feels that way when we fall frustrated at His feet...when we run to Him in our lack of understanding instead of turning away from Him---when we cling to the hope that even though we didn't get our way, He's the only One we want...
I bet He loves that...
When His arms are enough...