Theories

I am my father's daughter. Growing up, no matter what topic came up in conversation, his eyes would brighten, and he would either lean forward meaningfully, or wave his finger through the air and say "I have a theory about that." His theories range from medicine to quantum physics to aliens. Now he does have four degrees, so most of his theories (with the possible exception of the ones about aliens) have solid backing.

Even without the four degrees, my genetics are showing. I find myself leaning and pointing and declaring myself to be in possession of a theory more often than not.

In my last post I mentioned one of my theories; that we never progress much past five - if that. Now, I admit, that sounds depressing - especially if you happen to be acquainted with anyone in the five and under age range. But the more closely I become acquainted with two, three, four and five year olds, the more they bear my theory out.

Take the jargon away from the politics of the workplace or the political arena, and they look embarrassingly similar to the politics of the playground. Take a good look at the social dynamics of a kindergarten classroom, remove glue eating and the the phrase "poo-poo head" and compare it to the social dynamics of your work-place, church, social-club or political party. True, we adults occasionally exhibit a bit more external self control. But when was the last time that you had words like "Talk about an ego trip," or "Where do they get off?!" ringing in your head after an encounter with a fellow human? We simply choose these words over "stupid-face" and talk about them behind their backs rather than hurling the words at the offending individual. Now, this may push into the more advanced levels of socialization, possibly even into the third grade, but the general idea holds true.

One example in particular has been on my mind. I have a child who does not like to go to bed. No matter what the hour, she will howl like a banshee whenever she is put into bed. I, as the infinitely wise parent, can see that she is exhausted. I know that she needs to be in bed. I know that consistency, boundary setting and sleep have been scientifically proven to benefit children. I also know that putting her to bed is an act of great love. If I did not love her so well, I would not go through the hassle. But love and science notwithstanding, she screams and screams and screams. She does not want to be there.

How often does God put me into places where I do not want to be? Often, as it so happens. And what do I do? I send him a barrage of mental post-it-notes:

"Dear God, This is not what I had in mind. I have some great ideas for getting me out of this one. Bottom line, I do not want to be here. Sincerely, etc. etc."

I petition on my knees for the experience to end. I fume. I pace. I worry. I whine. And in the end, I end up experiencing it and growing and emerging a finer individual for it. I know He puts me in those positions to polish me. I know He loves me, or he wouldn't bother. I know he has infinite wisdom and power and His only purpose is to turn me into the best person I can be so that I can go home to Him again. But love and wisdom notwithstanding I fuss and bother because I do not want to be there.

Being a parent gives me greater insight into God. It also gives me a new and humbling view of myself, not to mention a lot of new theories.