Frustrating Blessings: Giving Up What Wasn't Even Mine

Its funny how things don’t work out our way. No, not funny: frustrating.

This week I’m teaching the preschoolers about Easter. As I thought about the story I wanted to teach them the true meaning—that God loved us so much he sent his son to die for us. But even more that He defeated the grave and rose! How do I tell that to three and four year olds who know death as a reality?

This morning was all planned out. A fun Easter book to ease into it and an egg craft that used shaving cream and mixing colors (what kid wouldn’t enjoy that). Nothing too deep, but I planned to begin to talk about how much Jesus loves us and the new life (egg) He gave us because of dying for us.

And it all went off without a hitch. Everything happened perfectly; no fighting, turns where taken, no biting, clean up went well, no stealing snacks, no hitting, no crying, and we have beautiful marbled eggs to show for it.

Or not. That whole last paragraph did not happen. In fact, the opposite of each of those happened and we didn’t even make it to the egg project. Today was chaos and I’m not sure if any of the kids learned anything. Hopefully they were reminded what time out means and that it is not okay to inflict pain on a friend and they might have remembered that Spot went on an Easter Egg hunt, but they don’t know anything about the real meaning.

Walking away I wondered why. What could I have done differently? Then, it hit me. I am not teaching these kids. I am not the one who can make them behave. I am not the one who can teach them all. I would fail. I do fail. God is their teacher and he’s just using me to tangibly be there with the kids.

I’ve been learning in many different ways and capacities that God has it under control. There are too many ways that I like to do things myself. I like to be in control of the preschoolers. I like to spend my money the way I want to. I want to spend my time the way I want to. I want to eat whatever I want whenever I want. The list is endless. But what I’ve found out through my life is that preschoolers act out, money disappears, I wish I had time to do other things, certain foods are not good for you, and so much more.

God loves these preschoolers even more than I do. His ideas are what I want to teach them. I find that on the days I’m excited for what I came up with or what I have planned are the days the kids decide to all plot against me and make the class time miserable but the days I genuinely spend time in prayer and ask God to be present, thank Him for His ideas, and pray for each child are the best days. Sadly, I don’t do that enough. God, help me remember.

There aren’t a whole lot of things I like control in, but in those areas I do, I really want control. But they aren’t mine to begin with. It’s not my money, it’s not my food, it’s not my time, and those definitely are not my preschoolers (although I’d claim any of them—they are too cute not too).

Isn’t it amazing that we do not have to worry about any aspects of our lives? Isn’t it amazing (and relieving) that God cares about each aspect right down to the clothes you wear?

I’m sorry God. I’m sorry I do not stop to thank you more often. I’m sorry I do not stop to ask what you think about something. I’m sorry I don’t stop and pray for our kids’ hearts rather than stressing about how to teach them a concept that is so amazing I’m sure I’d mess up. I’m sorry I don’t give you more credit for the things you allow me to do. I’m sorry.

It’s frustrating when things don’t work out our way, right? It probably would be more frustrating down the road if what we wanted right now always worked out. I can’t control six three and four year olds every single day. I just can’t. I’m human, I fail. It’s a blessing that things don’t always work out the way I want them to. It’s a blessing we can rely on God for even the little things. It’s a blessing we do not need to stress about life. It’s a blessing that God has it all under control.

God, take my control. Don’t let my selfishness show through. Don’t let me take credit—I don’t want it! Don’t let me screw up these children’s hearts because I’m trying to do your job and failing miserably. Take my control. Thank you for your grace, and your love, and your mercy that never stops raining down. Thank you for allowing me to be your tangible hands and feet. Thank you for these children I get to interact with and love on daily.