I wrote about a piddle incident, a few days ago, in which my patience was stretched to the limit. I had a disobedient and very disrespectful 2 year old on my hands, not to mention a big mess. The more I recount the story and the more I ponder on it, the more I have seen into it. Later that day, we had a very simple conversation that went like this:
L: "Mommy, I need to go potty."
Mommy: putting L on the potty "Thank you for telling me that you needed to go and making it to the bathroom this time."
L: "It makes me, and mommy, and daddy, and C.J. (our beagle) happy when I tell you I need to go and don't have accidents."
The conversation was so simple and normal, but kept replaying in my mind. Part of the reason was that I was so happy to know that she knew what was right and really wanted to do it. But I think the point that drove home the most was this. How many times do I, as a follower of God, know what the right thing is to do and know how happy I will be if I do it, yet I continue to do it my way and tell God he can "clean it up when we get there".
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