Sneaky

Posted by bakerboy on Mar 9, 2010 | 2 comments

My son has a new friend who lives just down the street.  He had asked me if she could come in and play for a while.  I figured that would probably not be the best idea, and so I recommended that he simply play outside.  It was nearly 50 degrees and the warmest it had been for a long time.

He reluctantly turned around to face the door, dropping his shoulders in defeat, and began to head back outside, but first, he thought, one more try.  On this effort he begged and pleaded for them to come inside, but once again…it was a nice warm afternoon outside which made for the perfect play-place that day.

He turned around releasing a sigh of defeat as if he just lost the war and their would be no more twinkies…just snowballs and a world filled with zombies and one recently dead, Bill Murray.  I digress.

A short while had passed, and he returned with a new request and renewed enthusiasm…, “Dad!” he exploded.  ”Can I go over to my friend, Kristine’s house?”  I knew it would disappoint him, but again…the backyard was a good enough place to explore their imagination…no house needed.  Again, defeated, he returned to his friend awaiting the decision just outside the door.

A few minutes later I turned from my computer monitor in the office to check on the kids and make sure they were still alive and playing well together.  What my eyes caught, I will never forget, for it brought both quite the giggle as well as some disappointment of my own.  I just sat there…giggling to myself…and shaking my head…wondering what he was thinking.

My youngest son, in Ninja like action, was tiptoeing around the corner of the garage, and peeking back to make sure that i couldn’t see him through my tinted glass office windows.  He simply did not realize that i could see him, but it would be difficult for him to see me.  He tiptoed around the garage, holding his finger to his mouth and shushing his friend and her sisters as they carefully followed behind him.  I waited.  I waited a few moments more, hoping that he would come to his senses and be obedient, but alas, he did not return.  I slipped on my shoes and headed for the neighbor’s yard as I watched walk into their home.  Not only was a not in their yard…somehow in his mind when Daddy told him that she couldn’t come in and play, and he could not go over to her yard and play…he had the stones to go directly into their house.  Perhaps it was one of those…I am already being disobedient…this won’t matter…kind of things.

I reached the house and knocked on the door.  The older sister answered, and immediately blamed the whole scenario on my son, who happened to be a few years younger than her.  Nicky came to the door and I asked him to say goodbye to his friends.  What could have been a nice afternoon, was ruined by his disobedience.  I figured, what a teachable moment for the both of us.  I can’t remember how many times I had done the same thing to my folks in direct disobedience, and so I couldn’t be too harsh on him with his punishment…never mind the fact that i was still somewhat giggling at the image of him creeping around the corner as if I couldn’t see him just a few yards away.

We got back to the office and we talked for a bit about what had just happened; if he understood why he was in trouble; what he did; and why it was wrong.  He knew right away what he did, why it was wrong, and why he was in trouble…he did not need me to tell him…so I simply asked him a lot of questions about that learning experience.  He was sent to his room for the rest of the afternoon to clean, make his bead, and put away his toys.  he was allowed to eat dinner, and then to bed early.

I began thinking of how many times I had done the same thing to God; committed the same sin of disobedience and foolishly, in my sleek and sneaky ninja style, crept around his office with the tinted windows where I was absolutely certain that he could not see what I was doing, and so of course i would get away with it.  Of course there he was, watching me the whole time…perhaps with a giggle while shaking his head wondering if I was ever going to learn…and then allowing me enough rope with which to hang myself and knowing that at any time, I could stop, and turn around, and be obedient.  But, our heavenly Father wants us to return on our own, not because he forcefully grabbed our arm and screamed at us.  And still, we hang ourselves with our own rope, again and again, and then the Father swoops in, with grace he cuts us loose, and walks us back home.

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