I tend to write using a lot of metaphors.
Specifically in relation to my son.
He’s constantly teaching me things about myself, himself, and life in general. The big picture stuff.
The other day we were at the playground- we go there a lot.
I had him on the “eetle, eetle” (little) playground. The preschool playground. However, he totally wanted to be on the big kid playground, the one with the big “bwoo wheeee’s” – you know, blue slides.
After I gently told him no, multiple times, he began to plot an escape.
He started just adjacent to the gate and proceeded to walk the length of the fence around the playground. As he walked, he ran his hand along the fencing- looking for holes, gaps in the wire, anything that would allow a getaway.
You know what he didn’t do?
He never came to the gate, lifted the handle and walked out.
The most logical, simple, obvious way out, and he avoided it.
I do that- a lot.
Hard times come up, and I talk to friends, I research my options on the internet, I schedule appointments with people who are “professionals” in resolving problems- doctors, etc.
The very last place I go to is the gate- the “door,” the way, the truth, the light…
My Father. The One who has put this obstacle, this fence, around me to teach me something- something about Himself. I rarely begin my search with prayer- asking Him to either open the gate for me, or show me how to live fully within the fence.
Instead, I walk laps around the fence, hoping to find my own way out.
I’m trying to learn from him- my son that is.
And delicately teach him about my Father too.