Spoiling Her Fun

From her perspective, it’s the perfect toy.  A door that opens and shuts, flashy lights that call for your attention, buttons that beep each and every time you touch them. Why wouldn’t she be allowed to play with it? What’s with these parents that keep trying to spoil her fun?

Perhaps this is what Amanda is thinking each and every time I pry her little fingers away from the toaster oven. Perhaps she thinks I’m making a mistake,  that I don’t understand how fun this is for her. Perhaps that’s why she keeps going back, time and time again, no matter how many times I warn her and take her away.

She doesn’t understand the danger it poses.

There are other “toys” around the house that she feels deprived from playing with as well. The kitchen drawers that she loves to slam shut (though she forgets how badly it hurt when her fingers accidentally got caught in the way). The keys she loves to jingle my keys oh so close to her eyes. The bag of plastic forks she wants to keep swinging around. The cover for the furnace vent…she clearly hasn’t read my post about the time she played with that.

Why does my mother keep saying no? Doesn’t she know how badly I want this? Why is she being so strict?

If only she saw things from my perspective. If only she knew that the reason I keep pulling her away from this world of fun is because I know the truth. It’s not a world of fun…in fact it will bring nothing but harm. I pull her away because I see things from a perspective she cannot yet see. And because she doesn’t know me well enough…she may still think it’s because I don’t want her to have fun. She doesn’t know it’s because I love her with my whole heart, and there’s nothing I want more than to protect her.

From the way I see it, one of two things will happen. She’ll either grow to resent me, continually misunderstanding my actions, convinced I am the ultimate of joy killers. Or she will grow up to trust me. Though she doesn’t understand the action of my hands, she will trust the character of my heart, believing I know better, even if it doesn’t make sense to her.

I sincerely pray for the latter.

Because now it’s toaster ovens and plastic forks. Tomorrow it will be parties and cigarettes (okay…maybe not tomorrow, but definitely with time).

She’s only one, but she has a big decision on her hands. Who will she trust, me or her?

The answer seems plainly obvious to me. Until I direct it at myself. Who will I trust? Myself, or my God. When He refuses my desires and prohibits me from what I want, will I be caught up in understanding the action of His hands, or will I trust the nature of His heart?