“Mom, give me some gum.”
“Gimme a piece of candy.”
“I need a cracker.”
“Can I have something to drink?”
Every.single.time we get in the car those are the very first words out of my children’s mouths. We haven’t pulled out of the driveway even, and they’re asking for something.
Sure, I’m at least partly to blame. I have acquiesced so many times that they’ve become conditioned to expect those things, so when I say “no,” they don’t understand.
And when they hear no from me, they cry and whine and demand:
And the why isn’t just:
“Why can’t we have a piece of gum?”
“Why can’t I have what I want? Don’t I deserve it? Don’t you love me?”
Well, the truth is that I’m sick of it. I’m sick of this insatiable desire for more and the whining that commences when that demand isn’t fulfilled.
I’m sick of feeling guilty for not giving more to my kids. This foolish idea that parents should want to give their children a better life than they themselves had is rubbish. The goal for our children should not be happiness but self-denial for the sake of the Cross. But right now they’re not getting that, and that’s largely my fault.
My kids aren’t the only ones suffering from this heart condition, this “I’m-entitled-and-deserve-more” disease that distorts reality and diminishes God to god status. This illness afflicts many Christians I know and, I’d venture to guess, a great percentage of the population in this all-too-abundantly-blessed nation.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m grateful to be living in this country, but if I hear one more time that everyone deserves to go to college, I think I’ll be ill.
I’m sick of people feeling entitled, as if they’ve done something grand and wonderful like cure cancer or rid the world of mosquitoes, that they’ve earned the right to say, “I deserve this.”
I’m fed up with people whining about missed opportunities and shattered dreams, about lost chances and wrecked plans, about misrepresentations and disappointing childhoods.
Get over it already. Move on. Count your blessings and name them one by one. Stop missing out on the good in your life by dwelling on the what-might-have-beens. There’s a reason. Figure it out, and if you can’t, ask God.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”
I’m tired of hearing my own kids grumble when I don’t oblige their every whim and buy them new princess dresses or sparkly bracelets, when I don’t cave to their tantrums and take them to “McSonic,” when they think I’m being outrageous for not giving them what they deserve.
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”
I’m annoyed at myself for thinking I deserve something more, something better than this beautiful life I’ve been given.
As if this house, these clothes, my car are something I’ve earned.
As if this flesh is anything more than dust and dirt.
As if my breath is my own.
As if in one moment, I could choose to destroy everything and everyone.
As if I’m the Maker, Creator, Life-Giver and Life-Taker-Away.
“Blessed are those who are poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
We are blessed beyond our own comprehension, and yet our human tendencies scream:
And sometimes I want to tell those people–myself and my own children included:
“No, you are nobody. The only thing we deserve is death. We have done nothing and can do nothing to ever deserve what all we’ve been given. The only one who deserves anything, the only one who has earned the number 1 spot is Jesus, the one who gave up everything so we could argue we deserved it.”
But then I would be accused of harming their fragile egos and destroying their self-esteem.
I want to empty my flesh and mind of those lies and re-fill that void with these adjectives instead:
It’s going to take some serious work and lots of prayer to see this happen, but the Holy Spirit has put this issue on my heart, so I know He will see it through. I‘m not finished with this; expect to see more posts in the coming weeks.
I would greatly appreciate any suggestions you have to offer.
Praying for wisdom,
Linking up to these lovely parties.