My youngest daughter always says exactly what's on her mind. There's no beating around the bush, equivocating, or flattering.
So when she invites my dear friend to dinner (who is also her most favorite person in the world), she's flabbergasted when the friend declines. My friend has other plans.
My daughter puts her hands on her little hips and says, "What could be better than me? What plans are better than me?"
She laughing at her own sassiness, but I see that sparkle in her eye that tells me she also sincerely can't imagine her favorite person missing a dinner date with her.
Oh, to have that self-confidence and assurance of your own awesomeness.
Later, she wants to recount a dramatic story from school. She stands in front of me and says, "Now, Mother, don't be distracted! Put down your phone! Stop cleaning dishes!" In other words, she has that same sparkle that says, "Nothing's more important than what I'm about to tell you."
Our silly demanding banter--what's better than me--reminds me so much of God's voice in my heart. Why would I ever decline an invitation or keep up my distracted multi-tasking when there's something to hear from God?
Nothing's more important. Nothing's better.
What's better than me?
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