Reasoning with a nine-month-old child can be tough.
Each day when I leave for work, my daughter wails for me. Having not yet fully grasped that something out of sight can still exist, she isn’t sure when or if I will be back.
Returning home proves an even worse experience. She is delighted at first, and it warms my momma heart to see her excitement as she realizes I have come home to her. Her little hands slap at the floor. She bounces up and down, awaiting my arms to lift her to me.
But this joyous reunion is short-lived. Incessant fussing and whining are ushered in for the remaining hours before bedtime. I am told she plays, smiles, babbles, and explores all day long while I am away. It is frustrating that her caregiver gets to see the cute and happy baby while I get the leftovers.
I can’t help but wonder if this is how God feels about me. I stand and cheer at sporting events, throwing my hands in the air in excitement. Then I fall into bed at night in exhaustion and give what is left over to the King. I fuss, whine, and complain to the Creator, giving Him a laundry list of tasks to complete for me: “God, take care of this, do that, heal him, fix her…”
My Savior cares about those requests. He tells me to cast my cares on Him. In a greater way than I care when my little one is upset, He cares for me. I also know that just as I long to see my daughter’s eyes fill with wonder when she looks at me—and to hear her laughter and babbling more than her fitting and fussing—so Jesus wants to spend those moments with me. He wants moments when I stand in awe of Him—when I throw my hands in the air in excitement to be in His presence. He wants to watch my eyes fill with wonder as I enter into His gates and babble happily at His feet.
God deserves and desires my first fruits, not my leftovers. He is worthy of my praise and thanksgiving!
Try babbling at the feet of your heavenly Father.
(Photo courtesy of pixabay.)
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