Sliding

This afternoon, Angie was out with a friend, so I was playing Dad.  I was being responsible, sitting on the couch with the boys watching Clone Wars with them.  Engaged in their lives.  Not really.  I was actually just in the room looking at old Young Continentals pictures on Facebook.  

Avery (almost 2) walks in the room saying "Peese, Peese" and pointing out of the room.  So, I pull myself away from the very important surfing I was doing, and follow her to the coat closet.  She continues to "Peese" me until I lift her up to see what she's talking about.  She's looking for her coat.  To go outside.  It's like 39 degrees.  And she has a leopard print top and orange pants on (comfy nap pants).  So we add her brown jacket to the ensemble and head outside.

She heads straight for their playground, and, more specifically, the slide.  She first tries to climb UP the slide, which doesn't work.  She's not big/coordinated enough to climb the steps to the slide platform, so I lift her up to the top of the slide.  She's a daredevil, and promptly shoots down the slide, laughing hysterically.  As you can guess, she pops right up and wants another turn.  I comply. 359 more times, at least.  It's not getting old for her, but getting very cold for her (but not for me, of course.  I'm tough.).

I finally give her the "one more time" shpeal, and put her on the slide. She comes down, and apparently forgot that we were going inside.  So I grab her up and head toward the house, with her going ballistic all over me.  So I let her down, thinking she'd forget about the slide and play on the porch while I drummed up some cereal for dinner.  She didn't forget about it, and instead, she stared at me through the glass door.  Every time I took a step toward her, she'd hightail it toward the slide.  I finally got her inside by enticing her with the wafting smell of Honeycomb. 

This whole ordeal got me thinking.  Do we treat God like this?  We love it when He is pouring blessings on us, and we keep saying "More!  More!"  But then, when He allows something in our lives that we don't especially like, we throw a fit.  Then, we just "stare" at Him, waiting for Him to "relent" and bless us again, when really, He just wants us to follow Him.  Not where we want Him to take us, or where will be most fun for us, but wherever.

The kids are successfully in bed, albeit crying because they were still hungry (I don't know why).  I can't wait for the next slide time, and I hope she's still little enough for me to have to lift her up there.