I have a confession to make. I like to count and find the patterns in things. Don’t ask me why – because I don’t know. It’s wierd really – I naturally see the relationship of things to each other…I see their number and I see patterns. And when I see wholeness or completeness I just feel a lot better. I suppose it is a little “Monkish” of me – or in reality it’s a lot “Monkish.” (And if you don’t know, by “Monkish” I am referring to the television program – Monk.)
My wife still teases me about my oldest daughter’s Fisher Price Farm. You know the kind with the round little people with big cheeks and infectious smiles. The toy that curiously comes with animals that are out of proportion to each other…really they are…those bunnies are half as big as the horses…that’s a monster bunny.
Anyhow, I love that thing. In fact, I think it was secretly developed to provide hours of enjoyment not only to preschoolers, but also to their parents. (After all they should be interacting with their children but that’s a different post.)
Here’s the thing about that toy – after my daughter would get through playing with it – I would HAVE to arrange each of the pieces, make sure they were all there, and put them back in their place. If there was one missing then the world had to stop until I found where it was. Sort of like the parables of the Lost Things in the Gospel. No…just like those parables, because when I found a missing piece there was definite rejoicing!
The good news is I have graduated from the Fisher Price Farm. I now resist the urge to check and see if all the pieces are there – call it having a third child! That toy has run its course and has been replaced by the infamous Mr. Potato Head. Make that two Mr. Potato Heads.
The other night my 19 month old got them out and began to play with them. As I watched her, I could hear my name being called out incessantly. Barry….Barry…. So I joined the party. We were having fun until, silly me, I directed my daughter to put the ear where the ear should go. This did not go over well. You see, she had a plan and a design in mind and it did not match mine. After a long discussion that looked more like a game of keep away I let her put the ear where she wanted to put the ear. What I discovered is that she had a definite plan – and it wasn’t at all like mine.
At that moment God chose to remind me that, when left to my own will, this is my natural tendency for how I want to live my life. I want to do the things I want to do, when I want to do them, and how I want to do them. But, it’s not my life anymore. Sometime ago, I made the decision to not live for myself or for my way or for my desires. Sure, they are still there – they don’t magically go away – but I chose to yield them to God’s plan, His timing, and His way.
So that night, as I sat and looked at a Mr. Potato Head with two sets of eyes, a mouth under one ear, and a nose under the other, I was reminded that I have to yield my desires. We all have to yield our desires. Often, because what we desire, or what we are planning, do not match up with what someone else is planning. It happened that night….and if we are honest with ourselves it happens more often than we would care to think about. It truly is like the Bible tells us – there should be less of us and more of Him.
Father God, would you grant me the wisdom to know your plans for me, the courage to follow them, and the patience to wait on you… Lord – it’s not my way but your way! Thank you and amen.
Until next time…
Pastor Barry
Pastor Barry's Blog 