The story that I actually want to share starts with a pink baby doll stroller (thankfully, I don't have many stories that start like that). This stroller is Elijah's favorite toy to play with at his Aunt G's house in Virginia. Almost immediately upon arriving for a visit, he begins the search for that miniature stroller and after locating it, you don't see him without it for the duration of the stay. He pushes it through the house. He pushes it outside in the driveway. He pushes it through the mulch and over Aunt G's flowers. He never stops pushing that stroller. And when it's time leave, it's us that's pushing it by asking him to leave that stroller behind. After a recent visit to Virginia, we had the bright idea of buying Elijah something that he could push around the house. He has a little lion with wheels, but it's a crossover--serving as something you push and something you ride--so it's confusing to him and definitely a far cry from that pink stroller. So we knew we needed to step up our game to trump ol' pinky. Sarah had the wonderful idea of a toy shopping cart. Elijah had seen her use a real one plenty of times, it would be the perfect height for him, and the basket would facilitate his newfound desire to hoard things such as his stuffed animals and our remote controls.
After a quick search, we found one on sale and were on our way home with the new purchase in no time. So excited to see his reaction, I went to work assembling it as soon as we got back to the house. Either my excitement was contagious, or Elijah could tell that the big box meant something big was headed his way. He barely let me remove all of the contents before he started grabbing parts of the stroller and asking his infamous question, "Wuzzat?" Sadly, I couldn't answer most of the "wuzzats?" because I had not yet found the instructions. It didn't matter because he was quickly drawn to the largest item that I pulled out of the box--the cart's frame, which thankfully was in one big piece instead of 10 smaller pieces! Before I could answer the "wuzzat" for that piece, my ambitious toddler was halfway across the living room pushing the large, plastic frame as fast as he could go. It was upside down and sliding across the floor, collecting every bit of toy debris in its path. Since the frame played a critical role in step one of the assembly, I quickly chased him down to retrieve the piece. I was not prepared for the response I got. Complete meltdown. My son went straight to the floor, rolling around and sobbing like a French soccer player. Somewhere between horrified and amused, I sensed the urgency to get this cart assembled ASAP. When the sobbing spell was over, Elijah immediately ran back over to the assembly line and tried to pull the frame out of my hands again. I didn't let go. Floor. More rolling. Even more sobbing. Fifteen minutes later, I had the cart together, and, having recovered from meltdown numero dos, Elijah was pushing that cart through the house like it was his job.
As Sarah and I watched him thoroughly enjoy his new toy, God saw a perfect opportunity to reveal a similarity in my own character to what I just witnessed with my son. So many times in my life, God will be building something awesome before my very eyes, and I'll recognize that it's for me and that it's going to be good. But my impatience consistently gets the best of me, and I'll grab it from His hands and take off running--with only a semi-functioning piece of the bigger plan. Sure, the piece I have will slide when I push it, but that's not how it's intended to work; instead the portion that I'm running with becomes more work for me because I don't have it facing the right way, I'm pushing the wrong end and collecting unwanted debris every step of the way. When God steps in and pulls the pieces back out of my hands, He will inevitably be greeted with a meltdown of cosmic proportions, and yes, I too have been known to sob like a French soccer player. All too often I lose sight of the fact that God ALWAYS sees the bigger picture and the finished product, while I only see the pieces most appealing to me and within my grasp. Too unwilling to wait and see what perfect gift He's building, I take whatever piece I can get my hands on, and I run with it.
Just as Sarah and I knew that toy shopping cart would bring Elijah such joy, God wants to introduce things in our lives that will do the same. And often, He'll build it before our eyes, not to tease us or tantalize us through every step of the building process but rather to get us to trust in His timing and develop patience, perseverance and even joy in the waiting and watching.
"Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4
