I reach for fire
Have you ever seen a small child try to reach their tiny hand into a campfire, only to be pulled away by a parent? The child screams… they were mesmerized by the bright light, the warmth, the cracking sound – why would their parent pull them away from something so wonderful?
I am that child… continually reaching for fires, only for God to grab my hand and pull me back. I scream. I don’t understand why that job opportunity, that boy, that (insert thing I really wanted at one point) would be pulled away from me? It seemed so wonderful. Why would God do this?
Because, just like that parent – He loves me. He loves me too much to let me get burned. Loves me more than I can understand in this fleeting (and dramatized) moment. Loves me enough to not give me what I want so He can give me what I And loves enough to keep on loving me even when I throw an attitude-filled, super sassy, could-compete-with-any-two-year-old temper tantrum.
No, I can’t see the big picture in the heat of the moment; can’t see how painful this fire could actually be. And sometimes, looking back I still can’t see the why for every heartbreak and disappointment.
But that’s ok. I’ve come to conclude I don’t need to know the why every time.
I simply know the WHO.
And that is enough.