It’s been a while I wrote about my niece, my little princess. But here we are, again using her life and the things she does to draw analogies with our reality.
So, little madam is about 19 months old, with the personality and spunk of a three-year-old. She knows exactly what she wants, and derives quite a bit of pleasure from getting her way.
She’s also way ahead of the curve as far as new words and conversations are concerned. So no, she’s not talking philosophy, driving, or writing novels yet, even though I’m sure she can biko. As an aside, I’m now convinced I will be one of those moms whose children can do no wrong. Not to say they won’t get corrected when they misbehave, just saying they will fart and I’ll probably smell roses and patchouli. Yep, that kind of mom.
Okay, why am I writing this? So Talia understands what it means to put something in the trash – so biscuit wraps, empty Ribena packs, those kinds of things, she will drop them in the trash when you ask nicely (read as ask at least three times while she repeats what you’re saying). But, eventually, she goes and drops whatever item in the bin. Sometimes I can get her to go drop it back in the bin by herself, other times I have to be really firm.
The curious thing though, is that, especially for wraps for edible things, she’ll drop them in, then go take them out in another 3-5 minutes. She’s not trying to be naughty or difficult, but I guess she doesn’t just understand why something that appears shiny or pretty should be dropped in the bin. The interesting thing is even if I have a new, full pack of whatever she’s disposed of, she still wants the one she’s picked out from the bin, which she threw away in the first instance because it was empty, finished, done with.
And that last sentence is the thrust of this piece. As adults, we end up going back to things, or people, or situations we know we are done with; we know there’s nothing left, that no matter how we squeeze, the juice is finished.
But we’re afraid to reach out for new, to seek (and receive) our due. We’re scared of the unknown, and potentially not being satisfied in the new. So we go back, get stung (or unsatisfied), but keep going back. And sometimes God is beckoning on us, asking us to stretch out our hands and receive from His bounty. But no, we want to go back to the bin, because there’s comfort in familiarity. Even when we’re absolutely sure what we have in our hands is trash.
All I’m saying this morning is, a closed hand can’t receive new things, ditto for a hand that’s full (with, in this case, trash). Trust God today, that thing, situation, person He’s been speaking to you about? Trust that He knows the end from the beginning, sees the full picture, and has your best end to heart.
I hope you have a great week!
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