****In an attempt to delete a several spam-type posts I mistakenly deleted this posting and the comments of several people. My apologies! Here is my post but I couldn't retrieve your comments*****
Recently, I had the pleasure of spending time with a two year old who likes to wear a hot pink tutu every day. Her tutu seems to imbue her with super powers available only to young ladies with such fashion sense. While I envy her fashion-forward power, this morning I am reflecting on a point in our play time together when she wanted what she wanted, NOW and not a moment later.
If you have spent any time with a toddler you will recognize this scenario. My young friend decided she wanted to go outside to play in her bare feet. Summer in the San Francisco Bay area is cold(ish). You need shoes on when you go out on a foggy chilly day. I asked my friend to let me help her put on her shoes before we went out. This seemed a reasonable request. She screwed up her face, shook her head of curls, planted her feet wide in a super-hero stance and bellowed, “NOOOOO!” She wanted what she wanted now, not in a minute or next week, now! Or better yet, yesterday.
I wish I could say I have no memory of my tantrum phase of life. I wish I could chuckle at the antics of my two year old friend with the superiority of someone who has long lived past her days of tantrums. Much to my shame, I saw myself in her rigid stance and recognized my voice in her insistent demand.
I have been having a bit of a spiritual tantrum lately. It seems like so many things that I either want or anticipate needing are just beyond my grasp. Like my young friend I don’t want to put on my shoes before I can realize the many desires of my heart or anticipated needs in my life. I don’t want to have to wait and trust God with all of this important stuff! I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna!!!
Unfortunately, my spiritual tantrums are just about as productive and as exhausting as stomping and screaming is for my little friend. The thing about spiritual tantrums is that if we (ok, I) could just trust that after I put on my shoes I will get to play outside. Then it would be abundantly clear that thrashing, kicking and screaming will get me no where fast. Tantrums waste precious energy and time. I don’t have near as much energy and time to waste as I did at two years old.
What would my life look like if I could just believe and trust that all I have been told about the Spirit’s unfaltering care for me is true? How would I behave if I knew down to the very core of my being that my needs would be met in creative and timely ways? How would I spend my time and energy if I understood that the visions I have for my work and life were born in the heart and imagination of God? I want to see what it feels like to just sit down and let the Universe tie my shoes before I go out to play.
Do you have spiritual tantrums? What are your tantrums about? What would it look like for you to trust?