You Know What?
Megan Breedlove 
I wrote last week about how Timmy (my 4-year-old) said I was the meanest mommy “in all the cities and towns” because I had told him he couldn’t watch a video. This week, I thought I’d give you an update about how things stand between Timmy and me.
Basically, I have been demoted from “best friend” status, then reinstated to that exalted rank, several times. My standing all depends on whether I’ve just tried to make Timmy do something he doesn’t want to do—or tried to make him stop doing something he does want to do.
Timmy is going through a stage where he gets really angry, and shows it. “Best friend” status is apparently something that can get revoked at any time if he wants to get back at me.
Such was the case tonight, when I told him (can you guess what’s coming?) that he couldn’t watch a video. After I had stood firm through several rounds of “But—but—please???”, Timmy marched over to me and said, “You know what? You’re not my best friend anymore!”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, at which point Timmy stomped off to his room and slammed the door.
In a way it was funny, and in a way, it wasn’t. What was especially “not funny” about it was that the exchange between Timmy and me mirrors pretty accurately how you and I interact with God sometimes.
We ask God for something, and He says no. So we get mad. We demote Him from “best friend” status, stomp off, and slam the door. When He’s improved His track record of pleasing us, we let Him be our best friend again—at least until the next time He doesn’t give us what we want.
When Timmy acted the way he did toward me, it was bad enough. But when you and I respond to God that way, it’s far, far worse. That’s because much as I love Timmy, I’m not perfect. Timmy is getting mad at—and attempting to punish—a very fallible human being. But when we get mad at God and withdraw from Him in a fit of pique, we’re rebelling against a completely infallible, completely perfect and holy God.
We say we believe God knows what’s best. We say we want His will in our lives. But just let Him do something we don’t like, or fail to do something we want Him to do, and we show by our reactions that we believe something very different.
It’s as if we’re saying that God has done the wrong thing and deserves to be punished.
But as if that’s not enough for us (myself included) to think about this week, there’s one more point I need to make about this incident, and that’s simply this: When Timmy railed against me, then turned his back on me, I didn’t stop loving him. I didn’t like what he did, but I didn’t stop loving him just because he temporarily withdrew a part of his affections from me.
And you and I better be pretty doggone grateful that God doesn’t stop loving us when we withdraw our affections from Him. Despite the fact that we, figuratively speaking (or maybe literally) stomp our foot at him, lash out verbally, and then withdraw, He doesn’t stop loving us.
When He extended His love to us, He did so for all time, not just for the times when we’re acting like we should. Which is a very good thing, because how often do we act like we should? A lot less than 100% of the time. We need to be very, very grateful that God’s love for us covers 100% of the time, even when our love for Him doesn’t. He puts up with an awful lot from us sometimes.
In the days to come, I expect my status with Timmy to fluctuate, because I’m one of those mean moms who doesn’t always let him do what he wants. But every time Timmy demotes me, I’m going to make it a point to remember that God never demotes me, no matter what. And I’m going to be grateful.
How will you remind yourself to be grateful for His unending love, instead of taking it for granted?
Lamentations 3:22—The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end. (NRSV)
Some days, the most exciting part of my day is when the kids’ bedtime arrives.
Whenever it sounds like I’m doing something fun, my four-year-old son, Timmy, is very eager to help. One of the things that ranks right up there at the top of his “Fun Things to Do” list is cooking. So the other day, when I announced that I was going to make lunch, Timmy asked excitedly, “Can I help? Can I help?”