letting Him hold the bowl

I poured myself a kid bowl of Apple Cinnamon Cheerios to share.  We sat down in the Quiet Corner (which is no longer a corner and is really just an old inflatable baby pool covered with pillows and a blanket).  I grabbed the nearby stack of library books to do some reading.  Babydoll started fussing.  She wanted to hold the bowl that contained the sweet snack the three of us were sharing.  I gripped the bowl tight and offered her the ability to serve herself.  She whined and pushed it away.  

Meanwhile Bundle Brother and I were snacking on our treat as I turned each new page of the book.  I stopped and scooped several Os out into my hand and asked Babydoll if she wanted some with my palm wide open.  "No!" she cried.  I went back to reading and snacking with Bundle Brother sitting to my left.  Her cries grew louder.  I turned to my sweet daughter and told her to walk away and to go to the bottom step until she was ready to join us.  She limped off wearing only one shoe whimpering with her back toward us as she went.  Now out of my view, I heard her settling down.  We kept reading and snacking.  Then quiet.  She picked herself up and hobbled back to where I was sitting in the cozy place next to her big brother.  "Do you want some snack?" I asked offering the bowl up to her again.  With tears still on her cheeks she smiled and served herself.  I pulled her toward me and put her in my lap.  The snack she so wanted control over was now sitting right in front of her.  Unlimited access.  Bundle Brother was nestled on my side listening to each line I read from the page taking from the bowl bite after bite.


After I finished the first book, I picked Babydoll off my lap and placed her in the pool across from me.  She was fine for a moment until she wanted more snack.  Once she was out of my arms, the treat was further away.  She crawled toward me and planted herself back in my lap.  Safely centered on me with free reign of the snack bowl I held and a front row seat to the book I read.


Why?  Why do I see God offering me a gift and demand it plays out in my own way?  Why do I have to control the circumstances?  Sometimes I would rather not accept the gift at all if it is not according to my terms.  But God has other plans.  Plans that include surrendering to his will, sitting safely in his presence, and having peace in all circumstances.  Sometimes it requires us to walk away, take a moment, and come to him humbly willing to let him be the One "holding the bowl".  Do I realize how many "handfuls of Apple Cinnamon Cheerios and stacks of library books" I could have missed out on while I wasted time arguing about logistics?  Who cares who is holding the bowl?  It is being willing to accept the gift inside that matters.  Perhaps it is time I realized that when I sit in His arms, the bowl over flowing with his blessings is held steadier than had I hobbled off with one shoe keeping the contents all to myself.