Like Me

I've just spent most of a week hanging out with my 5 year old nephew, aka The Boy. And he taught me something about my relationship with God. Well, not so much taught, let's say he provided the raw material for an epiphany.

• "Was I good? Do I get a treat?"
• "You're strong, but I'm stronger than you."
• "You're smart, but I'm smarter than you."
• "Things aren't going the way I want, so I'll just cry until you give in."

No, these aren't things the boy said this week. They're what I tell God a hundred times a day in my own nuanced, adult way. I've realized that I haven't really grown up; I've just learned to hide my childishness and selfishness, to put a veneer on it, to make it socially acceptable.

If I were really mature, spiritually mature, I would find enough joy in doing the will of God that I wouldn't always be looking for the adult version of a Shetland pony as a reward. If I were really mature, I would rest in the knowledge that God knows what's best for me and that he has the power to bring it about. Instead, I make myself sick with worry then get angry at God for allowing my illness. And how many of my tears are from legitimate pain as opposed to tears as a means of manipulating the All-Mighty? I suspect I would be dismayed if I knew the answer to that question.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.