Last week though, Littles found a small packet of legos that I had saved "for a rainy day," and I got an all new understanding of the story. Let me start by saying that when your six year old asks you if he can have something and you tell him that you're saving it for a rainy day, he will diligently wait until the next literal rainy day...and then all bets are off.
|This kid: I'd give him even up to half my kingdom.|
Let's be clear: he was polite. There was no whining. He utilized the word "please" with abandon. He waited a reasonable amount of time between each inquiry. (I think he is a great kid, but this is not a comment on either his awesomeness or my corresponding parenting wins--it was an isolated incident). Anyway, I totally caved.
In fact, for some reason, I felt a lot like the gypsy in this Ever After clip: "Come back! I'll give you a horse!"
(Sorry, random movie reference.)
Anyway, the point being that I was glad that Littles was persistent (and polite). As he left the kitchen with his hard won legos, I was grinning. I was reminded of how much I enjoyed his adorable, mostly toothless face with those big brown eyes and the killer eye lashes. I'd had a great time with our repartee.
The thing was, I had the legos. I wanted to give them to him. I was planning to give them to him (just not yet). And it was fun for me to then see how much he enjoyed them. Incidentally, he may have enjoyed them more simply because he'd had to ask for them and wait. Delayed gratification is like that.
I'm not saying that God is up there saying, "Well, she just hasn't prayed about that enough yet so I'm not going to give it to her." Or "Wow, I totally forgot that she needed that. Guess I should pass that blessing on about now." But rather that he enjoys the communion with us as we are persistent in prayer and he genuinely likes that we're asking him for good things--instead of just going and taking them for ourselves.
Incidentally, Littles could've just gone and gotten the legos, helping himself to them without my knowledge. That would've been way less fun. And he would've gotten in some serious trouble.
|And let's be honest: with half his teeth missing, he doesn't need any more trouble.|
Anyway, I was left thinking about what I wanted to start praying for more persistently. But now I'm a little worried that God might throw in a horse for good measure--and I may be mostly an adult, but horses still kind of creep me out.