SHAAAARE!

I am about to tell you two stories I have been told by my parents, describing the typical antics demonstrated by this little someone:


In others words, me, at age 2.

First:
When I was a toddler, my parents taught my older brother, Shane, and I about sharing our toys. I picked up on one important aspect of this concept, but didn't, apparently, get the "spirit" of the idea. Mom and Dad would often find me grabbing a toy from my brother, trying to pull it away from him and yelling out, "SHAAARE!!!"

Second:
Mom and Dad took Shane and 2-year-old Greta to a farm once, to visit my Dad's cousin out in Eastern Washington. One of the cows on the farm had recently calved, and Dad's cousin took us to where the baby calf was nibbling grass by itself. The mother cow had temporarily left the calf alone, so we all walked down the grassy hill to view it up close. However, as soon as we got close, the mother cow barreled up from out of nowhere. Shane had enough sense to bolt back up to the truck. Somehow, Mom and Dad neglected to grab their two-year-old--- probably because I was too busy marching up to the giant bovine to order her, "Go away, you big mama cow."

Lately, I've noticed aspects of my two-year-old self emerging, especially as I attempt to accept current workings of God in my life. If we picture God as Shane, myself as the afore-pictured-towhead, and something I want as a shiny toy, then the first scenario is fairly applicable. I try to grab the toy from God, and insist that He SHAAAARE. That's what sharing means, right? God gives me what I want, and it's mine.

...Or not.

Comparing God to a heifer may not be the most respectful second analogy, but we could read into that too. Instead of acknowledging my environment and retreating to the proverbial truck, I find myself marching up to a much larger being than myself and saucily ordering it with a lisp to "Go Away."

The goal right now: to work on letting go of the toys I want to keep for myself. To recognize my frailty as a young, female, human being and accept the Bigness of the One who is a fiercely protective parent. As Annie pointed out, I have more than enough; I don't need to seize any toys that God hasn't currently put in my play-pen. And furthermore, I don't need to tell God to go away, because who am I to tell off a giant cow??

No disrespect Jesus. You understand.