Tonight I pulled out my "mom knows best" card. Of course, I'm just like most mothers and I'm not nearly certain I'm not traumatizing my kid, instead of doing "what's best" but I pretend I'm confident.
So as I handed my newly turned 1 yr old ONE small, round, sweet pea and she turned her up nose at me, I rolled up my sleeves. Screaming and doing her best to twist her head away from me, I managed to get that ONE small pea into her mouth. She promptly spit it right back out and, my hands dripping with spit and drool, mom and baby engaged in hand to mouth combat.
Finally, showing me with her red face how angry she was with me, the pea was down her little gullet. I, because I tend to be overly optimistic and stupid, put 5 or 6 more peas on her plate while I slowly ripped apart a piece of bread into little bites for her.
This child, who had so adamantly informed me that she DID NOT LIKE NASTY SWEET PEAS ANYMORE NO NO NO NO NO, immediately went at the peas. The peas. She happily started eating the peas. Ignored the bread. And she loves bread. But no, she wanted peas.
I knew she liked sweet peas, because she'd been eating the mashed up jar food for a while now. But she didn't seem to know the small round things I was handing her was the better version of what she'd been eating.
And after swallowing back the guilt that I was traumatizing her by not letting her just say "Mom, I don't want a sweet pea, thanks." there was something very profound to me as this little angry face became a smiley face once again and sat there happily eating her peas.
How many times has God dished something out to me that I just didn't think I wanted? How many times did I cry and pray that God would take something away from me. NO God, I don't want to move away from my family since mom's Alzheimer's is getting worse. NO God, I don't want to quit my job! NO God, I can't afford to give that kind of money away.
And yet, after He insists, here I sit with two precious babies, unemployed and deliriously happy. Eating my peas.
So many times it's easy to forget "Father". But as I continue to mush around in this role called "Momma" I see the Father at work in my own life; past and present. Watching my own happy, goofy, tearful, angry, crying, stubborn girls - I see myself. Messy and in need of discipline before the only Father who can bring out in me the end product that only He can see.
God is so good.