I don't even realize I'm showing frustration until I feel her little fingers massaging my arm or scratching my back. She's not much for drama - especially momma drama. So she puts it upon herself to settle me down by creating mini spa-like settings wherever we go.
But wait. Although her de-stressing tactics totally work (yes, my daughter is that good), do I really want her to feel responsible for easing me out of my first-world-problem pain? (See First World Problems.) Nice gesture, but shouldn't it be the other way around? Me being the main comforter and all? My love for her taking center-stage?
And speaking of comforting our kids, my aunt and uncle are dealing with bullies at their son's school. When my aunt told me about it, I thought, "I bet she wants to give them a knuckle sandwich, them bullies!" But instead she took the high road, noticing God using the experience to reveal his father's heart toward her. As if he said, "See that? See how passionate you are about keeping your son away from the dark, icky things of this world? That's how I feel about you every second of the day - only times infinity."
So if we as parents, with all of our imperfections, agonize when our kids experience everything from a little splinter to yellow-eyed bullies named Skut Farkus, could it be that God is that much more smitten with us? And even that much more heart-broken when we suffer?
John 16:33 says, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."
And just ask my nine-year-old massage therapist, I can go from happy to grouchy in the time it takes me to down a bottled water (that's very fast). But not my God. He doesn't have bad days. He doesn't react to me according to my "progress report" with him. He is faithful when I am faithless (2 Timothy 2:13).
So while God is unchanging and locked into his nature, I, on the other hand, am not. That is why when I pray, instead of saying "Dear Lord, I love you," I oftentimes say, "Dear Lord, you love me." Between the two of us, his love is the sustaining love. And with my daughter, I want my love to sustain her, not the other way around. (Oh, but please - keep the "sammage" parlors open, my sweet girl.)