Spoiled

Well. Nuts.

I hear it said that the way one learns to relate to his or her parents is the way one learns to relate to God.

And I think, “Yeah, that makes sense. Your parents are your introduction to authority. Of course whatever you feel about them would subconsciously transfer to your feelings about God.”

And I’ve long heard it said that my parents spoil me, which I’ve long known is true.

And I’ve recently been noticing the thing that my daughter does that annoys me the most is whine and become stubborn.

And I notice my mother has a tendency to give in to this behavior; that when the complaining is hurtful enough and sustained enough she has a hard time not caving.

And as I wake up this morning with another manifestation of the Spirit of Eeyore, I have an uncomfortable epiphany.

Oh.

Oh.

Sweet God. I’m holding my breath and stomping my feet.

And the more my life doesn’t go the way I want it to, the louder I get.

Frick.

And now that it feels like I’ve learned a lesson, God will be happy that I’ve been a good boy so I’ll get what I want in the end…

Uh.

Wow, I don’t know what to do with this, God.

Take it, please.

Heal my distorted perception, deep in the center of my core where that four-year-old boy still resides.

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