I’m the Baby

If there is a silver lining to being kept up all night by a baby fussing because she's still on China time, it's that such experiences are ripe for sermon illustrations.  The one I thought of last night as I tried desperately to feed and calm our daughter was this:

 

I'm like my little Jada, who is howling at me and punching wobbly at my hands as I try to hold up to her face a bottle of formula.  She's trying to grab the bottle and feed herself.  She howls when I leave the room for thirty seconds to heat up another bottle.  She's crying but not giving me any indication of what she needs.  She's too upset to enjoy this moment that she and I are having, father and daughter in the quiet hours of the wee morning.

 

And so it is with God and me sometimes.  I take His blessings and try to manufacture them for myself by myself.  I question His goodness when I don't get an immediate answer, not thinking that perhaps He's metaphorically going into the next room over to give me something even better.  I'm grumpy without being honest and open before Him about why.  And I'm too wrapped up in what's going right or wrong in the moment to simply be present before God and enjoy the intimacy of fellowship and relationship.

 

Last night, as this was all playing out before my eyes and in my mind, I thought of Psalm 131, and how the psalmist was next to God as a weaned child, finally content in being in God's presence without solely needing anything from Him.  Physically, Jada is just a baby, and some day she will mature and not be as fussy at night.  Spiritually, unfortunately, I can be a baby too; better that I would be more mature, still before God and trusting that He's working everything out even if I don't see it or it's not yet.