This isn't incredibly insightful or very poetic, but I can't help but draw a solid line between a mundane incident and my faith just now.
We have a couple of high chairs placed around the house because it is super convenient in our busy house. Keepin' it simple & real.
A moment ago I was placing Em in one in my bedroom so I could get everyone ready to walk & get brother from school. The tray was clean, the seat still had a few scraps of dried apple from the morning. And cheerios (1. again, keep it real. 2. yuck). Em was just wriggling & fighting me with all her might to get this one disgusting apple strip. She was practically gonna jump the mothership (puns, puns) to get that yucky morsel. I kept telling her, "Sis, I have something so much better coming your way!" I did, I had some yummy, FRESH treats about to delight her palate.
She was not listening. She was so focused on her fight to the apple strip that I doubt she even tried to hear my words. Now she sits peacefully in her (cleaner) chair, happy as a lark with better food.
That's me. I get you, baby sis.
The one who focuses on the scraps when He needs me to wait. He has something so much better for me.
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