My two year old is a sick, crabby mess today. Poor guy. When he isn't feeling well he has very little patience (let's face it, neither do I) and today he simply could NOT wait for the macaroni and cheese to cook. 10 minutes is a long time, folks.
I did my best to distract and console him while it boiled, and we were both pretty excited when it was finally ready. I picked up the pot and dumped the pasta into the colander I'd placed in the sink to drain the water.
And he burst into tears.
Heart-broken, sobbing, wailing tears.
"Mooommmyyyy!!!! Why did you dump it down the sink?!!!"
Perspective is an interesting thing. From my vantage point, there are things in life that seem to take forever. I am trying to be patient. But I'm tired and hungry and I don't feel well and I'm only two and it's hard. And then it seems that what's been promised gets tossed out like so much hot pasta. I know my Father is taking care of me. But sometimes it looks like he's throwing my blessing away.
Thankfully, He sees what I can't. And He is kind. I lifted Judah up so he could see his mac and cheese sitting in the colander, ready to eat. I wiped his face and kissed him. I fed him and put him to bed. He's doing much better now.
And so am I. Better and thankful for a God who cares enough to speak to us through the normalcy of life.
