Thursday, June 2, 2016

When God lets us watch Frozen

Everybody has days like this from time to time.
It's been amazing to see the parallel between my new life as a father of a toddler and the love the Father has for his children here on earth.

The thought came to me yesterday, as thoughts always do when I haven't the time to write. The last few months have been a blur of happiness, joy, fear, stress, contentment, diapers and love. I went from being a bachelor in a small city in Southern Oregon to being a family man living along the east side of the Seattle metro area.

My mornings are filled with Amelia as my wife (wife!) works, and I get to enjoy the many blessings — and hardships — of watching a two-year-old grow into a human.

Marie often reminds me that Amelia struggles with things because she's still learning to be a human, and while that idea has made sense to me, it bore a little extra weight when I compare it to my learning to be like Christ.

We as fallen humans are stubborn and hard-headed. It takes us a long time to learn to do something correctly, and even longer to break a bad habit.

God is unshakable, unmovable and constant. He's there for us when we fill our diapers at 5 a.m., and he makes sure we get a balanced diet while still enjoying the things we like to eat.

Sometimes when we're having a rough morning, he lets us watch Frozen and hold our precious green balloon.

There are the heartfelt hugs, the sleepy cuddles first thing in the morning and the tired reading of books just before naptime.

But most of all, God knows what we need even when we don't.

We might want to stay up and play in our room at night (and wave to the neighbors through the window), but God knows we'll be miserable tomorrow if we don't get our sleep. And as two-year-olds, it's impossible sometimes to see what is common sense to God.

Amelia might be set in her toddler ways, but eventually she learns that MommyDaddy have her best interests at heart. And the incredible thing is that God is far more steady and reliable with us than we are with her.

Here's to remembering that every time Amelia wants to wear her winter pajamas (I wear my jayas!) in the middle of a hot afternoon, or doesn't want to get out of the lake even though she's blue in the face. As much as I want her to trust me — the flawed, human me — God wants my trust that much more.