I once saw that my son Micah, at age one and a half, was holding something in his hand. I noticed he had started to bring it to his mouth to eat it, but then looked at me and tried to hide it. He and I both knew that it probably wasn’t the type of thing that should go in your mouth. I reached out my hand and asked him for it, and he began to hold to it more tightly. And so I had to gently, but sternly pry it out of his little hands. He became increasingly upset. Once I got it, I saw that it was a small piece of a tortilla chip. Ok, so I guess it wouldn’t have hurt him. At least it wasn’t a rock, or something sharp.
I still didn’t give it back to him. It wasn’t necessarily in the best condition for consumption, as it had been on the floor for who know how long. But I did want to make my son happy. So I started to walk to the pantry, where I knew there was a big ol’ bag of fresh tortilla chips. He didn’t know this, so he was still crying. All he saw was that I had his chip, and I was taking it away. He wanted his little dirty crumb of a chip back. That was what he knew.
When I came back to him with a fresh new tortilla chip, he immediately stopped crying, and started laughing. He thanked me the only way he knew he could, “danku! danku! danku!” It’s such a small thing to me, but I could tell it meant a lot to him and made him very happy. There’s hardly a better feeling than bringing that kind of joy to my son.
I think that being a father helps me understand the type of relationship we can have with our Heavenly Father. I can only imagine how our problems seem to God — even the “big” ones. I think about how we become attached to some things, and how frustrated we can get when things go wrong. I trust God. I trust that God, being a Father, knows what is best for us. He wants the best for his children. And sometimes that means giving up a thing that means a lot to us. For bigger things are in store for us, in this life or the next.