I am sitting on the couch on this BEAUTIFUL fall day (well, actually it's summer, but it feels like fall!) listening to my child scream. SCREAM. SCCCCCCREAAAAAMMMMMMMM. Drew and I are firm believers in crying it out, especially if you have checked on vitals: breathing, diaper, hot/cold taken care of, nothing wrapped around their finger (except your heart), etc. It has worked for us and the schedule that we want to hold to, but I assure it has not come without raised bloodpressure, tears of my own, and nailbiting minutes wondering if I should go and check again or let leave be. This morning as I was listening to another painstaking session of cry it out, it occurred to me that sometimes I bet God lets US cry it out. Think about it for a moment. It makes sense doesn't it? We are God's children and the parent child relationship that I have with Brayden mimics (or should mimic anyway) the relationship that my Heavenly Father has with me. There are times in my life that I feel trapped and all I want is out. Out of my surroundings, out of my circumstances out of a sticky situation that I'd rather not be in, etc. I cry. and I cry. and I cry. Yet God does not rush to my rescue. Or so it seems. You see, me not rushing in to calm Brayden is not harmful to him. It allows him to realize that he needs to nap and teaches him to calm himself down even when mom or dad are not there. So it is with God. Sometimes God allows us to be in circumstances that are beyond our control. And we HATE it even though it is what is the best for us. Yet, no one would learn anything if life was full of comfort and tons of wiggle room. When nap time is over I will go into Brayden's room, open the curtains to the daylight and ask him how his nap was. He'll smile at me, with the crying scene no where to be remembered. I think God's that way too. He's there, watching us on his "video monitor" checking to make sure all vitals are stable, but he's going to let us sit and go through what we need to go through so that we can learn and grow from it. But when it's over with (or even through the storm) He will come in, grab us up, and confirm that He was there all along. Somehow this realization has made it a little bit easier to listen to the screaming this morning.
Tearing Up A Box Of Kleenex
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