I wish it were socially acceptable for me to handle not getting what I want like my toddler does. Allie's main goal in life is to run away from me in crowded and/or dangerous situations. Are we shopping in a mile-wide department store? She'll take off as fast as her twelve-inch legs can carry her, round the corner, and never look back. Are we at an Easter egg hunt with a thousand other people? She'll weave her way through strangers' legs, disappearing among the masses, totally unconcerned with my whereabouts. Are we trying to find our car in a busy parking lot? She'll slip her hand out of mine and run into traffic, cackling because she thinks she's winning the "Get Away From Mommy" game.
But if I ever grab her by her hand in these kinds of situations, look out.
First she says, "No."
When that doesn't work, she screams, "WALK!"
I explain to her, "You can walk, you just have to hold my hand."
And then comes the toddler melt down.
Shes starts to yell and cry and plops her bottom on the pavement, implying, "If I can't run in front of cars, I'm at least going to SIT in front of them and embarrass you with my blood-curdling screams!"
She steels her will. She uses all 20 of her pounds to her advantage, refusing to budge.
I yank her up by her hand to a standing position.
She only has one weapon left in her tantrum arsenal: she goes limp.
I am left with a child dangling from my hand.
Dead weight.
As I try to keep one eye on her older sister and the other eye on traffic, I shift purses (mine and her sister's), a diaper bag, a cup of coffee, at least one sippy cup, and the car keys to one hand. Then I scoop up my baby with the other arm and carry the flailing child to the car while she yells "WALK! WAAAAAAAAAAAALK!" and I yell, "I WIN! I WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!"
Sometimes I feel like acting like a toddler when I don't get what I want.
There are a million ways my heart cries, "More!" Sometimes I want more love than I'm getting. Sometimes I want more attention from certain friends. Sometimes I want to feel more valuable. Sometimes I want to be a part of something bigger and more worthwhile. Sometimes I want more responsibility. Sometimes I want more time to myself.
Whatever I'm desiring at the moment, the feeling in my chest is the same: unsatisfied. I want more.
So I manipulate and coerce to get more.
I achieve and accomplish to be more.
I volunteer and apply to do more.
But it's never enough.
In Psalm 90:14 the author says to God, "Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days."
God can satisfy.
Psalm 81:13-16 says, "If my people would but listen to me...follow my ways...with honey from the rock I would satisfy [them]."
God wants to satisfy.
Psalm 145:16 says of God, "You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing."
God does satisfy.
So what gives? Why am I so often unsatisfied if these verses are true? If it is well within this believer's reach, what do I need to do to experience satisfaction?
In a recent conversation with Him, God told me to invite Him to be enough.
He emphasized to me that He wants to fulfill me; I just haven't asked Him to lately (John 16:24).
When I find my heart asking for more, when I find myself feeling empty, depressed, or otherwise unsatisfied, God wants me to say, "Lord, come be enough."
Scripture says He is enough... Believe it, and ask Him to come be enough for you.
