Trying to Make Good Choices

On the way home from church this week I looked out my window and spotted a Little Tikes turtle sandbox on the side of the road.  It took a gargantuan amount of self control not to stop and try and shove it in the car with my two year old. But then I remembered, we live in a second story apartment and sandboxes really are meant to be an outside toy.  

For those of you who have not had the pleasure of experiencing the turtle sandbox, it is the ultimate sandbox experience.  Not only are your shovels, buckets and trucks shielded from rain and snow by the shell cover that fits snugly over the turtle's sand but the shell also makes the perfect refuge for hide and seek, capture the flag and bird watching. 

 Yes, I was lucky enough to have one as a kid...but it was a close call.  It is a running joke in my family that when we went to the store to pick out a sandbox my dad was weighing the pros and cons of each sandbox (ad nauseam in my 3 year old mind) and I finally blurted out, “Make up zer mind dad!”  (zer is not a typo it is how I said your at 3 years old.) So he made up hiz mind and got the turtle.  A wise choice...  I mean, Little Tikes makes the red and yellow “Cozy Coupe.”  Has anyone met a kid who didn’t like that?  It is, like, the dream car of every toddler!  

But the decision didn’t seem easy at the time ...no decision ever does. I am constantly afraid that one wrong choice could alter the course of the universe.  Every single decision is trial for my faith and trust in God.

For example, each morning I honestly and wholeheartedly believe that choosing to wear that ratty old sweatshirt (again) may sink my self image and my husband’s love for me to unfathomable depths.   However, I am certain that wearing the magenta blouse could attract attention to my very lopsided and motherly bosom which would also ruin my self image and my marriage. I collapse in despair between a rock and a hard place.   

Just imagine my state of mind when considering: 

When and where to buy a house and settle down? (If we even should!?)

What sort of book to write?

What to make for dinner?

I am a mess until I remember that Jesus,  “called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.  And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.’ ” (Matthew 18)

I’m picturing my son in the middle of the disciples. 

If he is anything, he is:

~fearless 

(no worries about walking with a bucket on his head)

~affectionate 

(note the well worn & loved blanky accompanying him)

~funny

 (Even the most hardened stoic would find it difficult to engage in a debate of appropriate headgear without cracking a smile)  

So, today when I pull on my best ratty sweatshirt I am praying that I will be fearless, affectionate and funny for the Lord.