I'm not sure which of three options was most appropriate the other day. All I know is I couldn't help but smile and laugh. Although, I did my best to maintain a stern face at the time, trying not to let Coralyn know I thought she was being cute and somewhat funny. After all, this wasn't time for fun and games; it was time to obey!
I don't even remember what the exact situation was, but I do know that I asked Coralyn to do something. We were either getting ready to take a bath, go to bed, or leave on an errand. Whatever the case, I needed Coralyn to follow me into another room. I asked her to "come here, please," which she did, but in a very unique way. She got on the kitchen floor and started scooting, backwards, toward the living room, dragging her little purple blanket with her the whole way. Once she reached the carpeted living room and couldn't exactly slide any further, she simply changed methods and began to crawl on all fours, still going backwards mind you. She traveled all the way down the hall and to her room in this ridiculous fashion. I wasn't sure what to say or do. She was obeying. I had asked her to follow me to her room, and she was doing exactly that, just not in the way I had anticipated: the good old-fashioned and extremely boring "put one foot in front of you walking forwards method."
And so I was left trying to hide my smile and hold my laughter inside so as not to let on that I thought this was even remotely cute. I also told myself that maybe next time I need to be more explicit in my directions when I want Coralyn to do something, especially if I want it done quickly. Perhaps I should use this approach, "Coralyn, will you please follow me to your room. I want you to get off your chair, stand up straight, and walk down the hall. I need you to walk forwards so that you can see where you are going. I want you to keep your hands by your side (or else she will try grabbing some random toy she sees along the way or drag her hand along the wall the whole way). I want you to walk the whole way (or else she might start jumping like a kangaroo or spinning in circles or try doing somersaults to get there)." Did I leave anything out? Is there anything else I should mention?
As I was waiting, oh so patiently, for Coralyn to make her way to her room, I of course thought of my parent-child relationship with God. How many times must I look absolutely ridiculous to Him?! He asks me to do something, and I do obey, but in the most awkward, unorthodox way imaginable. He could tell me to do the simplest thing, and I turn it into something strange and weird or just plain hard. I make the task as difficult as possible, taking fifty times as long as necessary. Does He smile at my antics and try to contain His laughter, or does He get extremely frustrated and impatient? Does He want to scream or yell at me? Do I make Him want to cry? Probably. Thankfully, He is patient, very patient.
And I should be too.
She is obeying, after all. And a little laughter doesn't hurt. In fact, I probably needed a good laugh. God most likely knew that and used my precious toddler to remind me to lighten up and enjoy the moment, to relax and have some fun. After all, she's only going to be two once. I highly doubt she will scoot and slide on the kitchen floor, dragging her little purple blanket the whole way, when she is in high school. By then, I don't think she will crawl backwards, jump like a frog, slither like a snake, spin in circles until she is dizzy, or attempt somersaults that end up looking more like side flops. No, I am quite sure she will have figured out numerous different ways to obey as ridiculously as possible, using much more "grown-up" and "mature" methods. I can't even begin to imagine what all those may be, but I am sure I will soon find out.
For now, I will just keep chuckling to myself and enjoying these kairos moments while I can.
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