Towel

And yet once again God spoke to me clearly today through my two-year-old from a conversation that went like this....

Brielle: Mommy, can we go playground at school tomorrow?

Me: No, baby.  It's going to rain all day today and tomorrow.  The playground will be all wet.

Brielle:  But Mrs.Belinda has a towel!

You see, Mrs. Belinda does have a towel.  And she goes to the playground first thing on pretty days and wipes off dew or pollen that has collected on the swings and slides and random other climbing toys.  Immediately my adult brain began reasoning how one measly little towel couldn't hold all that water that would be wiped off of dripping wet equipment.  In addition, the grass will be wet and muddy.  The rocks will be wet.  And more rain will continue to pour from the sky more than likely.  And on and on my mind went, rationalizing how silly the notion that one towel could do the job.  Juvenile thinking can't reason away such a thought like my mature brain can.

Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them. And when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.”  Luke 18:15-17

I wonder why Jesus said to come to him as a child.  Could it be the simple, pure faith of a child?  A child who doesn't immediately calculate all the impossibilities and improbabilities.  A child who doesn't "reason" his way out of faith.  A child who hears a word and accepts it.  A child who trusts that the authority has the means and the power to supply the provision.

Brielle didn't throw reason, physics, science or experience at the situation.  She saw the problem.  She trusted that the answer is not only available, but ready.

My mind has been consumed by a current situation.  I continually cast down lofty imaginations that set themselves up against the knowledge of God when I let my mind wonder and turn it into something it's not.  And I remind myself that worry cannot coincide with faith.  A mentor of mine reminded me, "God fights our battles.", a lesson that Joshua understood all too well. 

I need to remind myself that just as I don't send a two year old out to clean off a playground, God doesn't expect me to make the victory happen through my own sheer effort.  And in addition just as I don't put the young children in danger by allowing them to go on the playground in inclement weather, God doesn't place me in a circumstance where I don't rest in the shadow of His wing.

God's got a towel plenty big enough to mop up this mess.  And the rain clouds are quickly moving out, and the sun, which never has ceased to shine while hidden behind the storm, will shine its warmth down again soon. My job is to trust and stand in faith and watch.  Simply stand and watch expectantly.