God’s Little “Helper”

Lizzy likes to “help” me around the house.

She has her own little broom to sweep along side me as I use the big broom.  Of course, her favorite way to “help” is to sweep the little piles I’ve made and redistribute them around the kitchen.

My little helper also assists in the cooking process.  She likes to mix things.   After scratching my head to find elements of each meal to mix, I finally gave up and started making up things to mix.  Rice is very popular.  Our rice is well mixed in the Letinsky household.

I often catch myself thinking that I’m God’s helper.  As if the omnipotent God with limitless power needs anything from me.  It’s my pride, thinking I have something wonderful to offer.

I think I “help” God when I offer my wisdom to someone, whether they want to hear it or not.  God has his own method of offering his wisdom, just when the person needs to hear it, in just the right way.

I think I “help” God when I do some small act of service like cooking a meal for people, as if he couldn’t provide for them on his own.  I forget about how he says he provides food for the birds, and so much more for us (Matthew 6:26).

Of course, this doesn’t mean I shouldn’t serve others, as a way to serve and glorify God.  But I shouldn’t imagine that I’m doing anything that God needs from me—that I could do it any better than he could.  I’m not saving him any effort or energy (he’s got limitless stores of both).

I can imagine how God puts air quotes around “help” when he’s describing my service, the same way I do when I talk about Lizzy offering her “help.”

I love having my little helper by my side as I do chores, even though she often makes the process take much longer and have far more complications.  I delight in her presence and the time we spend together.

And I’m God’s child.  He delights in spending time with me.  He loves it when I do things for his sake.

God doesn’t need my pitiful offerings of “help.”  But he welcomes them, despite how much I mess up things.

How do you “help” God?

Lizzy Turns One-Year-Old Today!

I knew that parenting would be a process of sanctification, but I had no idea how much. Here are a few ways that God has used my precious little one to make me more like Jesus.

1. Teaches me patience

I’m not a patient person (just ask my husband), so when I’m faced with child who takes what seems like forever to eat her meals or get out of a particularly difficult stage, I’m challenged. But I’m learning to relax and go with it. Lizzy will move on, in her own time. I might as well enjoy the moment we’re sharing.

2. Gives me a mirror

Surprise, surprise, my daughter is just like me in many ways. She loves to eat, is kind of lazy, throws a fit if she isn’t getting what she wants, likes to be the center of attention, and recharges by reading books. When I’m finding some of these traits annoying, I’m reminded how much God puts up with my own annoying traits.

3. Helps me see my idols

When I catch myself getting angry, chances are, Lizzy is rolling all over one of my idols. When she’s cranky and needs her daily walk, and I’m tired, I see my comfort challenged. When she won’t let me get chores done, I confront my insecurities about how people will see the state of my home. And while it’s never enjoyable to have one’s idols threatened, it is enlightening, especially when it happens several times each day…some days more than others. I’m surprised by how certain idols are losing their power over me, as they are dashed to the ground each day.

4. Teaching me I’m not in control

This has been the biggest way God’s been working on me through Lizzy. I try to plan for all contingencies, whether we’re going out or just for our day at home. And I can never plan for everything that can happen. I’ll pack extra clothes for her, only to have her spit up on one and soil another with a diaper blowout. Lizzy will decide to shorten her nap when I plan on getting something done during that time. Or, the most difficult of all, is getting a baby with 24 hour colic for the first few months of life. I had NO control over that. But God is showing me he’s in control of it all, and he shows me grace along the way.

I’m excited about the next stage in her life and to experience all the things God is going to teach me through raising her.

And it keeps getting better.

Praying for the Easy Way

As someone who struggles with idolizing comfort, I find that my prayer life often reflects this desire.  Most often, it takes the form of requests for things to go “the easy way.”

For example, this week, I watched a friend’s 2-year-old boy while she had a doctor’s appointment.  The kid is going through the terrible twos phase and is also having a hard time adjusting to competing with his new younger brother for attention (he’s been “dethroned”).  In other words, the normally sweet little boy is a bit of a handful at the moment.

So, my prayers before going over there were that he would be sedate, sleep lots, and amuse himself well.  Basically, I wanted the easy way of babysitting.

But that’s not what I got.  When I showed up, he had a cold, so he was extra cranky.  He hadn’t slept well that night, so he was overtired. And he was mid tantrum over not wanting to open the door, or some such thing.

Mommy left, and he proceeded to scream after her for about 20-30 minutes: “I want mommy,” etc.

This wasn’t the easy babysitting scenario I’d imagined. In fact, it was turning out to be one of the hardest I’ve ever encountered.

Not having a toddler of my own, I was a bit at a loss about how to handle him.  So I prayed for some help.  And I got it.

I got a good dose of wisdom how to handle the tantrum (which basically involved letting him sit and cry while I checked in on him every few minutes to see if he wanted to keep crying or do something fun).  Once he got it out of his system, I gave him some choices for playtime, and we played Playdoh, did artwork, and watched some kids TV.  I even managed to get him to eat his lunch, purely by the grace of God.

My energy levels have been super low lately, usually necessitating a nap in the afternoon. But I wasn’t going to get one that afternoon.  And God gave me the energy and strength to keep up with the little guy, despite my typical pregnancy induced exhaustion.

So even though my prayer didn’t get the answer I was hoping for (basically, it was “no”), God chose the best route.  I got to rely on his strength and see how he could provide for me in a tough childcare situation.  And this gave me some hope for the future, as I’m anticipating caring for my own little one with her own behavior issues to handle.

I know that in my own strength, I won’t be able to keep up with her.  And I’m not wise enough to figure out all the discipline issues.  But my afternoon with a cranky two-year-old taught me that I’ve got a God who is there to help me through it.  And I’m a little less freaked out about what the future holds.