Every Tuesday and Thursday I nanny for a family with four boys. The youngest is nine months and already has an independent streak in him.
Today we were playing in the older boys’ room and every time I turned around, the baby would be going after this electrical cord. Each time I would gently pick him up and move him to another part of the room or try to distract him with another toy, but to no avail. He just really wanted that cord. Finally, one time as he was reaching for it I placed my foot on top. He tried to life my foot, but when he found out he couldn’t, he started to cry. I tried to console him, “I’m sorry, Sweatheart, but you can’t play with that,” but he wasn’t having it.
Then it hit me. How many times have I been little Gabriel with God? How many times have I run full-force toward something I wanted, only to have God gently pushing me away, trying to distract me, but I stubbornly ignore all the warnings until He finally shuts the proverbial door in my face and I cry out in frustration?
But why do I do this? Just like I knew an electrical cord wasn’t a good toy, God knows what’s best for me. I know this, but I still fight and whine and cry when my plans don’t work out. Instead, though, I should be thanking HIm for putting me back on the right path and be eagerly waiting for what He really has in store for me.