I’ve shared this story in the past, however its meaning continues to be astonishing and ever presently relevant.

Many years ago my son and I were headed home after a long day. He was about two years old at the time and I had just rushed from work to pick him up from preschool, skillfully accounting for each minute of my day to assure he was neither the first kid to arrive in the morning nor the last to be picked up in the evening.

At this time in my life, it was just he and I, so structure and routine were vital to our daily operation. As we drove the three miles from his school to our apartment, my mind was already visualizing the meat I left thawing out that morning, the sides I would prepare and I began doing a mental note of our hampers to determine if I needed to wash anything that evening. Logan was busying himself in the back seat with one of his hundreds of toy cars and telling me a colorful story about an adventure he and a classmate took on the playground at recess.

As we walked into the front door, I automatically entered “Mommy evening mode.” I turned the oven on to preheat while simultaneously grabbing veggies from the fridge and seasonings from the pantry.(Rachel Ray Style) Since I was already in the fridge, I grabbed the items I needed to prepare his lunch for the following day and set them aside to work on in a bit.

While seasoning the chicken and eyeing the red potatoes that I was preparing to toss in a piping hot tub of salted water, I did a mental scan over our closets to decide what I would pull out to iron for the next day. Jilting me from my thoughts, my chubby faced two year old popped his head in the kitchen and politely ask for me to make him a snack before dinner. I assured him that I would and he scurried back to the couch re-gluing himself into an obviously engaging episode of “Super Why” on PBS. I popped the chicken in the oven, grabbed carrots from the fridge for Logan’s snack and went to work on dicing potatoes, knowing they would need time to boil.

Approximately 5 minutes had passed since my little guy made his initial request. I peeked down from my stack of potatoes and noticed he had returned. This time he wore a worried frown plastered across his little face. With his lip pouted and a slightly accusatory tone, he asked if I had forgotten his snack. I reassured him that “Mommy” hadn’t forgotten and it was on the way. I then attempted to explain to him in the best manner that a two year old could comprehend, that I needed to prepare the items for dinner because they would take longer to prepare than his more immediate request (the snack). Seemingly satisfied with my response, he disappeared back to the living room.
Then like an avalanche it hit me, I looked up to heaven in an “aha” moment and laughed.( If memory serves me correctly I actually verbally complimented the Lord on his wit)

I Am Here…

My 2 year old came to me joyfully and requested what he needed (the snack), much like I come to God requesting the needs and desires in my life.
Though I heard his request, said yes, and prepared to provide it for him, he became worried because he did not receive his snack in a timeframe that “he” felt was reasonable.
Much like myself!
If God didn’t supply my need “Immediately” or in a time frame that “I” thought was acceptable  I began to worry.
In my moment of immediate need, it didn’t occur to me that God had NEVER not come through for me , much like my son never considered the fact that I had NEVER not done what I said I would for him.

I didn’t contemplate the idea that MY God was calming future storms, making crooked paths straight and aligning my journey with such brilliance that he could not only fulfill my immediate request but supersede future needs that I (in my tunnel-minded fixation) couldn’t even fathom.

Much like my son couldn’t see in my momentary delay to his “call of action”,  that I was preparing dinner, ironing his clothes, packing lunch etc… all in anticipation of his future more complex needs, before taking the few seconds to ready his immediate desire.

I’m reminded of these moments as my daughter and I find our footing and establish our relationship of trust. Innately she recognizes that I am her mommy, and as a result my mere presence at times calms her woes. However, that doesn’t stop her from bellowing in a Pitch earth shadowing enough to shock even the most energetic young pup if I take a few seconds too long with her milk.

I’ve grown by leaps in bounds in my spiritual journey and yet I still find myself often returning to this lesson... In reality, my flesh may always feel a bit of fear when a storm arises. As a result, I’ve decided to not become discouraged by the presence of my fear but rather rejoice in the speed in which my Faith recovers. 

I make a conscious effort each day to be receptive to the lessons afforded to me through the eyes of my favorite little blessings. As I attempt to teach my children about life, I revel in the beauty that they often teach me what Life is all about.

Love, Life & Lessons
Onyx