Yesterday my son was holding his 15-month-old daughter when she made her desires known. Her desire was to go into our bedroom and the door was closed. It was shut for a reason. For the time being, it was closed particularly to her. She erupted in frustrated screaming/crying, her face turning crimson.
“She can go in there”, I say to my son, my grandmother’s heart caving to her cries.
“She doesn’t get what she wants by behaving that way,” he replied. Oh. Right.
Then my son calmly spoke to his daughter, “Honey, you don’t get to talk to your Dad that way. What do you want?”
She replied with the sign language that says, “More.” (I get it. I want more too.)
“More what?”, her father asked, “Show me”. He picked her up and she pointed to the kitchen next, asking for more fruit.
Wow, I thought. Watch and learn.
I thought of my Father. Sometimes I pursue what I think I want, what I think will satisfy me and God blocks my path. Nope. Not this way. And I explode within with my own version of an unhappy temper tantrum.
He does not leave me there. He asks, “What do you want?” He invites me deeper into my heart to really become aware of what it is I am after. What do I want? I want soothing. I want refreshment. I want to not feel so tired. I want a break. I want…I want….I don’t know what I want. He waits. He pursues. He helps me to really name what it is I am after and then asks me further…”Show me.”
What I needisrest. What I need is soothing. Oh. What I need is Him. What I need is more of His Presence. I will find that in the quiet. In prayer. In worship. But I won’t find it if I continue to run from my own heart. He picks me up and invites me home to Him, home to myself. And my yearning, my tears, my frenetic drive is quieted.