She’s Smarter Than Me
We were sitting there side by side, and tension was mounting.
Long dark hair fell across her face and her eyes flashed. Wiping furious tears from her cheek, she grit her teeth, and I watched jaw muscles flex and clench.
A homework assignment was aggravating her, and confusion masqueraded as fury. After several exasperated sighs, she suddenly stood up, shoving her chair back.
“Mom! Can I go do some devotions?!”
“Right now?” I wondered, “Don’t we have a lot to do?”
“Mom, I just need some time with God. I need to do this.”
Bleakness stood out against pale cheekbones. My daughter froze mid-bolt, pleading with her eyes.
“…Sure, go ahead. Let’s meet again in twenty minutes?” My words were barely out, and she was off, her door shutting behind her, a pink room disappearing from sight.
My daughter? She’s smarter than me. She knows Who to run to, where to turn, when life feels raw. Because for me, I sometimes take too long to pause life and grab my Bible and journal. I often try to soldier on, with a bad mood firmly entrenched. Grumbling under my breath, quietly seething, or secretly dissolving into sadness before finally realizing my need –and it’s Source— I can leave casualties around me.
My daughter? She was smarter than me this week.
And that brings joy too.
(Photo Credit: Harry Rowed, Creative Commons, cc licensing)