She stands.
10 little toes perched sweetly atop my new cutting board.
Sure, it was intended for chopping veggies on, but it is fast becoming the cutest balance board on the block.
She’s ready and rearing to go. It’s time for our weekly Wii date, and it’s quite possible I’ve grown to enjoy this date even more than she. It’s fun, fitness and family all smooshed into one sweaty, smile-inducing half hour. What’s not to love?
Having come to terms with the fact that our little lady no longer naps, somewhat of a weekly WiiFit routine has emerged: we gyrate, jump and jiggle on our respective boards, while our guys sleep soundly in their respective beds.
Clutching her “special” {battery-less} remote in hand, her eyes twinkle with delight…what shall she conquer first?
Hula hooping or juggling?
Or, oh goodie, the penguin slide!
Kung fu and then a snowball fight, maybe?
Aaah, yes. As consistent as her mum, she selects, and we fly like chickens!
Heart pounding, shoulders burning and sweat beading, the results reveal: 4th place.
Which means absolutely nothing to her.
“I won!”, she shrieks!
“But you didn’t, mommy. I beat you!”.
My pride prickles for a nanosecond.
Hang on a minute, I think. The avatar may look astonishingly like you, twinkle-toes, but who’s doing all the work here?
{How is it that my feathers {pun totally intended} get so easily ruffled by 35 pounds of spunky toddler?}
I’m tempted to hash out explain the situation to her; you’re on a cutting board, sweetie…you know…like, for cucumber…and your remote is as ineffective as baking your husband’s favorite cookies with expired Crisco. Not that you have one yet. In short: I’m the one making you look good here, chicken!
Or something equally as dramatic.
And spirit crushing.
But then it stirs.
That familiar sense in my heart that there is something deeper going on here…a realization that this is a picture of me. And how I “do” much of my life.
I stand. Toes gripping my counterfeit security. Wielding a tool that I believe I actually control, taking credit for what plays out before my eyes.
“I did it! See…I’m cool! I totally pulled that off…all by myself!!”
It would seem I have forgotten something: that the source of that “win” is due to the highly powered One beside me {whose life blood surges through my very veins}. I’m the spunky toddler here.
I can jump and juggle and jab my little heart out, but my effort has little effect when disconnected from the only source of true power.
The One who knows how to pull off a smashing victory – using His skill, His resources and His brilliant timing to direct my little avatar to jump, kick and slide it’s way through the obstacles that arise – sidles up beside me and, with a twinkle in His eye, declares…let’s rock this, baby!
His heart-strengthening “game” selection is perfectly suited to my skill level and His cool is not lost when I naively think that I had something to do with the successful outcome.
I’m simply a vessel.
An ineffective remote void of power, apart from my Papa.
But here’s the wondrous part of all this: I don’t have to fight and strive for first place. Or any place, for that matter.
All He desires I do is show up – consistently, with a childlike heart and teachable spirit, little {veggie} board in hand – and position my little self down beside him to “play” along.
Sure, it takes longer to accomplish anything and it’s virtually impossible to stay on task, “little one” in tow and all, but it’s the sweet intimacy and wild laughter that is the true delight of the encounter, after all.
The lopsided team-work of one fully dependant upon the other.
It is this dynamic that blesses His Father’s heart.
So the next time those 10 little piggies grip that cutting board with all the unfiltered determination of a child who desperately needs to Wii {ahem}, my mommy-heart delighted by her sweet presence, I’ll take a moment to consider the beautiful simplicity of simply showing up, defective equipment and all, to enjoy life alongside my Father.
How little of consequence I actually accomplish apart from His power, His infinite wisdom and patient direction.
Nothing. Without. Him.
And that, it would seem, is just the way He wants it.
{so Wii do life together}
