Her face said it all. The corners of her little mouth turned down… her lower lip poking out a little further than the upper. Red blotches covering her cheeks and forehead. Tears streaming, as her eyebrows angrily formed a V above her nose. Mommy was finally putting her foot down. No more pull-ups.
For months, we have struggled with the potty. Good days and bad days. The bad days dominated by stubbornness and a need to be in control. Hmmm… Katherine is definitely my daughter. She has moments where she fights me with every bit of physical and emotional strength she’s got.
But I love her. With every bit of strength I’ve got.
I guess God often sees me as I described Katherine in the first paragraph. Still fighting to get my way. Still holding onto my pride. My need for control. My need to have it “my way.” Becoming weaker by the minute.
The pride fight is especially tough for me. Sometimes I think I struggle more than others. Remember The Truman Show? Somewhere in the deepest part of my soul, in the parts of me that I don’t like to examine or talk about, I feel like I am supposed to be Truman. The world is supposed to revolve around me. But that is not who I really want to be. It’s just my selfish human nature.
My pride gets in the way of so many blessings that God has prepared for me. Somehow I get mixed up, believing that the things I WANT are the blessings God SHOULD want for me. And holding on to those wants is exactly what prevents me from receiving God’s true blessings. I can only find out what He really wants for me when I give it all over.
Sure I have (a lot of) moments where, like Katherine, I fight Him with every bit of physical and emotional strength I’ve got. And in the same way that I love Katherine with everything I’ve got, I’m thankful that…
He loves me. With every bit of strength He’s got.