My kiddo is struggling to become a biped. Yes, she’s at the age where crawling just won’t do, she insists on standing on her own two feet. I can almost hear her mischievous grin saying, “Look, Mom, no hands!” as she lunges forehead first toward the sharpest corner in the room.
When she’s not stacking another bruise on her forehead, she busy investigating the electrical outlets or power cords, eating leftover Christmas tree needles, or scooting around with a dog toy in her mouth. She’s constantly into everything.
In the morning, when I’m getting ready for work, I find myself putting her back into her crib with a few toys just to keep her out of harm’s way. It doesn't matter which toys I put in the crib. My little cruiser finds this incredibly insulting, and stands and wails, clinging to the crib slats.
As I’m brushing my teeth in the doorway making faces at her, I can’t help but notice how she looks like a little jailbird, desperate to break out. I’ve tried dozens of times to explain to her that the slats are just to keep her safe until I can go exploring with her, but there’s just no reasoning with an eleven month old in the middle of a tirade.
Watching her makes me ponder all of the times God has given me boundaries, and rather than being thankful, I’m standing at the edge wailing, trying to push just beyond the limits He’s set to keep me safe.
This year one of the topics I plan on pondering is what God is teaching me as I raise my daughter. Each day I learn about an attribute of our Heavenly Father as I watch her grow. I also learn more about my stubborn self, for better or worse!
Your turn: Can you think of a time in your life when you could look back and see the boundaries God had set for you as a blessing, instead of something to break free from?
Amy and the Junior Jailbird