Chicken Vs. Fish

There is nothing more refreshing than candor. Unless it's coming from your three year old. Then it's kind of annoying, and usually embarrassing and can even hurt the feelings of the most seasoned veterans. You know what I'm talking about...the mom in the bathroom stall at Target with her little kid in there with her who says loudly, "Why are you pooping? It stinks!!!" And the mother dies of embarrassment right then and there. For the record, this did not happen to me- I would poop in my pants before I would use a Target bathroom- but it happened to someone I know.

 Honesty is the best policy. I firmly believe this. Unless your kid asks about the drink thing under your shirt when you feed your new baby. Or when your three year old wants to know how baby Marlee got here. Both of those topics and others similar in nature are open for honest discussion...in twenty years. Now can we change the subject?

Oh yes, honesty.

I was putting chicken in the crock pot the other day and Jacob asked me what it was. "Chicken," I said.
"No it's not." He said. "Yes, this is chicken." I assured him. I was quite positive I was right, after all I bought it, I took it out of the package, I put it in the pot, I was sure on this one. "No, it's fish," he insisted. "Chicken," I said. "Your lying," he accused. And suddenly our little discussion became a whole lot more than chicken versus fish.

Although the whole chicken thing was insignificant, the very idea that he would think I would lie to him was a big deal. I asked him if I had ever told him something that wasn't true (his mind probably went to Santa, but he wisely didn't say anything) and went on to tell him that I would never lie to him. That mommy and daddy wouldn't tell him things that weren't true. That he could count on us to always be honest with him and we wanted to count on him to always tell the truth too. Maybe I was blowing it out of proportion, or maybe not, but it actually hurt my heart that he would even consider it as an option.

Later on I was thinking over this discussion and I began to think that God must feel very much the same way when He tells us Truth and we think He might be lying.

 God said that He provides, but then we look at our bank account and worry and cry and doubt.

God tells us that He is good, but we send accusing glances heavenward when bad circumstances arise.

A visible display of His forgiveness, He allowed His body to be broken on a bloody cross, yet we cling to guilt.

We internalize our burdens and collapse with the load we carry in our hearts, when He promises we can cast our cares on Him, because He cares for us.

Even this week, I found myself doubting, as our bank account took a dip and it seemed that payday might not make it in time. And while I was busy pointing my grubby little finger at God, unbelieving His promise to provide, He'd already sent the check days ago, I just hadn't opened my mail.

As much as I love my son and would never intentionally lie to him, so much more does Jesus love us and His promises, untainted by the human stain, can never be broken.

Oh, how He loves us.