One of those flights

It was a long day at the conference, schmoozing with donors, teaching a crowd of bored people only there for the training credits, arguing technology with people smarter than me, and chatting over drinks (that’s the hardest part).  Then the drive through big-city rush hour to the cunningly hidden rental facility.  At 8:30 pm we board the plane, perchance to nap. 

Doom. 

Peering back over the seat in front of me was a 3 year old cherub.  She burbled, gurgled, sang and charmed the flight staff with her big eyes.  But I knew.  Before the end of the flight there would be tears.  The questions were: when, and how loud?

And so it came to pass, 1 hour in and 1 hour to go - a complete meltdown.  She used every vocal trick in her repertoire: abundant volume, choosing the pitch that rattles your eardrums, stuffing her face between seats so they worked as amplifiers.  And never, ever, stop.  Even to breathe.  It was impressive.

Her mother worked hard, bribing, feeding, hugging, shushing, bouncing, singing, and promising the world.  But all the cherub wanted was one thing: to get off the plane.  Until that happened, she would vent her fury, and that she did well.  No amount of comforting, reassurance, or distracting would change things. 

I had to cover my ears because it literally hurt.  All I wanted was to go back to whining at God about my life.

Oh.

How much of our prayer life is like the cherub; venting our feelings and sulking until God does what we want.  And we don’t listen when He says “Wait” or “OK, I’ve got this.”  We keep whining and nagging when what he wants us to do is be still and trust that He is in control.

Yes, there are times when we have to wrestle in prayer, but when He says “Shush,” it is time to stop yelling and work on those faith muscles.  Prayer is not nagging God to change His mind, because he won’t.  Prayer is letting Him make us think like him.  Therein is holiness, and joy.

 

Habbakuk 3: 17 Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, 18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. 19 God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places. (ESV)