|Dear Two-Year Old that I Love More than Anything In the Entire Universe....|
Not EVERYTHING is yours. Yes, that bear and that ball...all yours. I understand that I am not to touch them or move them without your permission. No need to make that face at me....I get it.
That box of tampons you were moving around the house this morning?...not yours. Give them back.
The Lady on the Toilet who Just Realized Our Slight Miscommunication about Who Owns What Around Here
The above situation (and situations similar to it!) have been happening more and more often in my house lately. E has suddenly decided that absolutely everything he is able to get his little hands on just MUST be his. And upon this realization he holds the acquired item up to his cheek, looks me in the eye with ferocious conviction, and says rather defiantly, "Mine." At first it was cute...
...now I'm thinking there is going to be a "Come to Jesus" meeting about this at some point down the road.
But as he often does, my toddler has reminded me of a truth that I often file away into the remote corners of my mind...you know that place...it's where dust and the vague memory of how to do a geometric proof reside.
E's sudden feeling of ownership over everything he sees has reminded me just who I belong to. It has reminded me that I serve a God who looks at me and wants nothing more than to hold me close. When He sees me, he doesn't see my sin. He doesn't see the fact that I am crawling with imperfection and covered with the sheer ickyness that is my human nature. He doesn't see that I have 10 more pounds to lose or that my mind is clouded with grayness about aspects of life right now.
When He looks at me, He sees only one thing. The one thing that is powerful enough to make even the darkest shadows melt away and the vilest of my nature to be concealed with scarlet. When He looks at me, His interpretation of what He sees makes everything else utterly insignificant.
He looks at me and simply thinks...