childish tantrums

Tears streaming down my face, clenched hands, and vocal chords screaming with every bit of force they could muster, I ran to my room. I slammed the door announcing to the whole house that I was indeed angry. After pounding on my pillow with my fists, my screaming turned to sobs, and my pillow held my little head. With the sun shining on my angry little body, I cried until the tears would no longer come. My mother knocked on the door and quietly came in. Her gentle hand softly touched my tear stained cheeks wiping away any of the tears that hadn’t yet dried. And, instead of punishing me as my tantrum so clearly deserved, she cradled my little body in her arms and told me how much she loved me.

And, somehow – though the circumstances didn’t change – it was ok with me.

Today I keep thinking of the wise words of my mentor, “and don’t you just feel like a petulant child?” It was true. The tears and frustration from the circumstances I found myself in did remind me of my tantrums as a child. Just last night I had flung myself on my bed, tears streaming down my cheeks. And then, it was as if the Lord knocked on my door and quietly came in. His gentle hand softly touched my tear stained cheeks wiping away any of the tears that hadn’t yet dried. And, instead of punishing me as my tantrum so clearly deserved, He cradled my little body in His arms and told me how much He loved me.

And, somehow – though the circumstances didn’t change – it was ok with me.