Cry, Baby

I was recently introduced to this tumblr called Reasons My Son is Crying (H/T to PJ), and it’s focus is to capture the various reasons why children cry (makes sense, given the blog title). Much of it is cast in a light hearted manner, and it could hardly be considered mean spirited – so it’s actually kind of endearing. The concept has since gained momentum and the site is now a curated collection of devastated babies with an accompanying caption from their parents. But these kids are often bawling for the seemingly silliest reasons, and more often than not it’s just a matter of perspective. Here are a couple of my favorites…

“I wouldn’t let her play with the bag of dog poop.”

“She got inside the locker and couldn’t figure out how to get back out.”

The context in which this site was introduced to me was via a sermon, illustrating how we might view an incident as one way, but really God knows it to be another – we just lack the aforementioned perspective. We’re a fragile bunch, aren’t we? OK, maybe you’re not but I’m getting to the point where I have to humbly admit that I am. We can freak out over having too much control, over having too little control, over random circumstances and over consequences from our own actions… We’ll often throw fits, whether publicly or privately, that are not too different from the tantrums many of these children are throwing when they/we don’t get their/our way.

I’ve expressed in the past that I believe each of us interacts with God in a different manner. For me, the overarching pattern to my life has been similar to a guided tour. I’m taken from stage to stage in life, with room to explore what’s around me but I’m always called back if I start to wander too far off. I may want to go to one place, but it’s roped off for now or the entrance is on another side. Although, it’s not that I’m unable to make my own mistakes or go where I want to, but more often than not I come to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t in my best interest to do as I please anyway.

Thought that doesn’t mean I didn’t cry about it in the process. OK, perhaps I didn’t always shed physical tears but I did experience phases of frustration and displeasure from being denied what I wanted at that moment… and 9 times out of 10, I can see in hindsight why God let me fuss about it but continued to guide me away from certain things. I’ve been blessed by his discretion.

So here I am, pushing closer and closer to 30, and am still learning the paradoxical nuances to the basic pillars of my faith. I’ll likely still have moments of demand, initial disappointment and fear… but at the end of the day I’ll rediscover that it was all unnecessary. Because, despite my opinion, I don’t know best and I just have to give Grace a little more freedom… nah mean?

Oh, and here’s a random bonus.