Brats for God: God, just do things my way, okay?

I was, what I believe, divinely led to start on a new book "Restless: Because you were made for more" by Jennie Allen. Granted I'm only a couple chapters into the book, but she does talk about Batman, and she had me sold at superhero references. I'm nerdy like that and would walk around in spandex and a cape myself if I didn't think someone would question my sanity and possibly parenting competency. 

I decided last summer that I really do love God. I've never seen Him, but like the wind I have felt Him near, and pushed away so I understand what it means to feel Him far away too. Like orbiting planets in an elliptical fashion I get close, I boomerang out, then find my way back. While I love God very

much, I also get pretty mad at Him. I'm not just talking about questioning things - I'm talking about using the f-bomb in prayers and pretty much letting Him know that I could do a better job in my own life. I know I wanted Him to take control, but really I would like to show Him how it's done first, then give God my life to mold into what I want it to be. I've got big plans for me, you know. I have a certain way I want to look (forever), a lifestyle I would like to maintain, friends I would like to keep dear and never disappoint, a daughter who I would like raised a certain way, thank you very much, and a husband that I would like to be a Christian on my terms, in my way. God, could you please fill this order? That would be great.

Now if Natalia, who is 10, spelled all this out for me I would smile and laugh. That would be until she used the f-bomb and I would have to laugh inside but be all "mean mommy" and explain (awkwardly) what that word REALLY means. Like any child, Natalia often tells me how to do my job. I get so frustrated because really, how dare she with so little life experience tell me how things need to go down around here. I allow her to control small things in her world because if she really had control of the house, things wouldn't run at all. I am all for respectful freedom of speech around here, so I want her to voice her opinion of the injustices regarding being responsible, having to follow rules and not leaving poop stained underwear in the living room (seriously when is she going to take time to wipe. She says she's too busy). 

Do you see where I am going with this? She is as much of a child to me as I

am to God. I am not going to even envision Natalia as a teenager because I know that is what I sound like to the Creator of the Universe. If I am to oversimplify my spiritual dilemmas it would sound like this "God, I will love you and show out for You, but only if you do things my way. If you don't do things the way I think they should be done, I'm totally going to ignore You. That's cool, right?"

If your child said that to you, I'm sure you would be all "Yeah, honey. That sounds really great. Let's do life just like that." Hell no! You would first laugh at the audacity of your child to even entertain that thought, look at her like she has a third eye because she is totally serious, and then just ground her for life, since you know she will never hold down a job because she is a total brat. That gives me an idea for a t-shirt: Brats for God.

So what do I do with my immaturity? First, figuring out I am a spiritual brat is pretty moving in itself. I hate when I annoy myself, but now what? Well, what would Natalia do? She would go to her room, think it over, and then come talk to me. The communication is the cornerstone to fighting off the brattiness. I need to spend more time talking with God about what I'm supposed to be doing, not what I think I should be doing. If Natalia had it her way, she would be constantly watching YouTube tutorials on how to make "squishies" instead of getting ready for school. That is also why she missed the bus today and Jeremy had to wait in that awful parent drop off convoy. 

So how about we all do a bit more listening instead of talking. Like nagging children, God has heard our requests over, and over, and over. Yes, He knows we want to lose 10lbs. Yes, He knows we want our kiddos to grow up and not end up with facial tatoos and an orange jump suit. Yes, He knows we want our husbands to sort the damn laundry instead of throwing it on the laundry room floor like he is color blind, or something. Yes, He has heard our quiet desperation when we just say "I don't even know what I want anymore. I'm depleted."

Listening means I need to be quiet. Be still and know that I am God - Psalms 46:10. It does NOT read: Get going and do some stuff because I'm God and don't want you to look lazy. It's hard to listen when you look like a kid with ADHD bouncing all around your own life. Sit still. Listen. Take 5 minutes in your car to check in with God without giving Him a "to-do" list. I can't stress enough to just listen. If you hear nothing, hear nothing. Take that as a moment of divine peace away from the chaos of your day. That in itself is a gift. Ask God to talk to you through the people you love. That is my favorite. My friends, and strangers for that matter, have spoken straight to my heart when I have needed God the most. I know it the moment I hear it because my ears were open. Even Jeremy, with all his spiritual doubts, has told me recently he knows God was intervening through him on my behalf. Whether you believe or not doesn't change God any. He's not Santa where you stop getting as many presents once you acknowledge he can't possibly exist. Do you remember those couple of years when you figured out Santa wasn't real, but you didn't want to tell your parents because you thought Christmas would be over. Ah, the stresses of 8 year old life.

Okay, so my homework is to shut up and just be thankful, listen, and sit still for a bit every day. I think I can handle that. Just like getting to know a new friend, it isn't really "work", it's just time well spent. Time spent changing from a Brat for God into a Daughter for God. I think both of us will be relieved.