Priscilla Shirer is dynamic, and in an arena of 13,000 people, she holds us captive on the edge of our seats. Seriously. She’s one gifted communicator.
She told us about the temper tantrum that her niece often threw when she was two years old. She would stand in the kitchen and point to the refrigerator and say, “Eat!” And her dad, knowing she was hungry, would pick her up and set her in her booster seat at the table, because in their family and in most, the table is the place to eat. Not on the floor in front of the refrigerator.
And she would scream and shout and kick, and she would climb down and go back to the refrigerator, point and say, “Eat!” And her dad would carry her back to her booster seat, knowing she was hungry.
And the battle ensued. Back and forth, back and forth, daughter, father, daughter, father. She demanded what she wanted, but he knew the environment he needed to place her in so he could give her what she needs.
Hello, Tricia. Welcome to yourself in this story. Impatient, agitated, feeling misunderstood and climbing out of the space I’m in, because I’m sure God doesn’t know what I want. When really,
he’s placing me in the position, in the environment, where he can give me what I need the most.
On top of that, God’s patience with me is something I can’t really understand. I think I can, but I have no idea how boundless he is.
Just because I become impatient and irritable with the redundant questions from my children,
when they ask again and again the topics we’ve just gone over,
the plans I have promised them a dozen times already,
just because that is my frame of reference because I suck,
and just because I feel embarrassed and foolish because, there I am, lost and confused – yet again – asking him to answer me, to confirm his will, to tell me again what he has already promised,
and for crying out, he’s probably thinking,
“Tricia, I need to take a nap before we talk about this – yet again,”
I assume the same God is impatient and irritable with me. He is not. He puts me back in the place he has in mind for me, the place where he needs me to be so I can have what I need, and maybe even what I want.
I do wonder, though, if it all makes him smile. If he leans back in his big comfy chair and thinks, “Sure, Tricia. Pour all your energy and emotion into this. It will only make you tired and worn out. And when you take the nap you’ll finally need, perhaps you’ll wake up in a better mood, ready to obey.”