So Sweet

My three-year-old son wants to marry me when he grows up.  He doesn't care that I'm already married to Daddy, he still just really wants to marry me.  How sweet is that?

At three years old, he can't imagine being without me...being away from me...living life independently from me.  I'm the most important thing in his life, followed closely by swords and trucks and diggers and books and dinosaurs.  Okay, to be fair, I'm sure Daddy's in there, too...but probably somewhere after the trucks and before the dinosaurs (love you, honey). 

So why does he love me so much? 

Because I love him.  I take care of him, I feed him, I clothe him.  I completely accept him.  I comfort him when he's sad, I forgive him when he's been ornery and disobedient.  I teach him, I protect him, I spend time with him.  I listen to him; I treat him like the treasure I know he is.  He needs me, and he knows it.  He's completely vulnerable, and yet He trusts me completely.

I am his rock...the one he trusts with his life. 

He's been told by his brother and sisters that he can't marry his Mama.  Now he insists that he's just going to live with me forever, and never ever move out.  Still sweet, although I'm sure that by the time he's forty it will be more creepy than sweet.

So I got to thinking that it's really no wonder that God wants us to come to Him like a child: trusting, loving, believing.  It comes naturally for healthy, nurtured little kids to adore their parents and to desire to be with them every waking moment.  To trust them, rely on them, be completely vulnerable with them.  To relay all of the joys of life to them.  To share all of their problems, big or little, with their mommies or daddies, and truly believe that they will make them better. 

What could be sweeter than to share everything about your life with the one that loves you more than any other?

I wish I could place myself in God's hands so whole-heartedly, instead of willfully trying to control my life on my own.  I'm not very good at running my own life, anyway.  I nearly always mess it up, and I end up feeling miserable and alone.  So I've set myself a new goal. 

This week, I'm going to try to love God like a toddler loves his Mama. 

Like my toddler loves me.


P.S. Now that he's been told that he can't be a daddy someday if he still lives with his Mama, my little son is planning to grow up, get married to someone (he still hopes it will be me), and use his very own digger to build his family a house...in our back yard.  Then he can use the back door to visit me whenever he wants.  So sweet.  Love this kid.