I was just thinking about making pancakes for my family on Saturday mornings.I haven’t done that lately, but when my daughter was a little younger she was often my inspiration for such an act of service to the ones I love the most.“Daddy, can I help you make pancakes in the morning?” she would ask, looking up at me with those sweet, impossibly beautiful blue eyes. I had no internal defense against such requests. “Of course you can!”
So we made pancakes. With her helping me, I could make half the pancakes in twice the time, with three times the mess. It was spectacular, and the pancakes were always amazing……the best ever! I wouldn’t trade that time for all the syrup in the pantry!
Don’t you love how God uses your children to get to places in your heart no one else could touch? I think about that a lot. Especially when I realize how much I “help” God. I often realize I am feeling a kind of pressure (or guilt) that implies I have an over-inflated view of myself and the kind of “help” I can offer to my heavenly father. Do I really think that without me, God could not get something done? Or is it more likely that, like me and my daughter, He invites me to “help”Him because he loves me and wants to spend time with me, while he teaches me things I need to know?
It insults my sense of importance a little bit to admit that perhaps God’s invitation for me to “help” is more about Him loving me than needing me. It’s a relief to know that if I sleep late, God can probably handle the cooking without me. It was never really about the pancakes anyway.