Still a Child

Each of my children received a kite for Easter and they were very eager to fly them on the first windy day.  I enjoyed watching from the window as they struggled to get their kites aloft, untangled them from each other and various limbs, and then grinned from ear to ear as they finally watched them soar.  However, I knew it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened.  Max came stomping in, crying, and throwing his kite in a pile on the ground.  He was sobbing that it was junk, and ruined and that he would never fly a kite again!  I glanced over and could see that the string was tangled, but not beyond saving.  He stomped around for a while before he sat down to work out the tangle, all the while muttering under his breath.  I casually walked by and said, “If you want any help, just let me know.”  No response.  After several more minutes of watching him struggle, I again offered to help if he would just ask.  Again, no response.   Finally, after the third time, he asked for help.  I fixed the kite in a minute (it would have been quicker, but all of his efforts had made it worse).  Soon he was out the door with his kite, despite previous threats about the end of his kite flying career.

As I watched him from the window, I thought about how I am so often like him.  Something doesn’t work out or go my way and I stomp around, yelling things (I wish this were figurative, but it’s quite literal).  All the while, God is just standing around, watching, saying, “Hey, I’m right here, if you want my help, you just have to ask.”  But I would rather wallow and feel sorry for myself or try to fix it on my own.  How silly and childish I am.  I end up making the situation worse before I turn to God.  O, that I would turn to him first!

When I began teaching my children, I assumed that I would shower my great knowledge upon them, but the more I watch and teach my children, what is revealed is MY sin and MY need for a savior.  I am no better than my 1 year old, who cries when she doesn’t get her way.  My heart can be as dark as my 3 year old, who loves the word ‘NO.’  I can be as vain as my 5 year old, who spends hours looking in the mirror.   I can be as careless as my 7 year old, who never completes a task.  I can be as unsure as my 9 year old, who needs constant reminders of her worth and value.  I have been a Christian for over 25 years.  As I look back over that journey, I am amazed by how far I have come, and by how much I still need HIM, day by day, hour by hour, second by second.  I am still a child in desperate need of a Savior.

– Heather Mitchell

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