T
he screaming was
intense. The two-yearold behind me was exercising
every conceivable vocal chord
at top volume.
We were just beginning a flight
to Orlando and she was buckled
firmly into her support seat,
squirming, fighting for release
from her bondage. No doubt
she felt trapped, a victim of
circumstance. She did not like
what was happening!
“Out!. Out, mommy. Out!”
she proclaimed, begging,
demanding her freedom.
Some adults turned around in
distain, their scowling faces
revealing their inner feelings.
Others just smiled, as if they
had been through something
similar themselves in previous
times. I marveled at how the
little one could keep this up,
ten, fifteen, twenty minutes. My
ears hurt.
Meanwhile, Mom quietly
consoled her precious one,
“Relax, it’s OK. You’ll be just
fine.”
The parent knew that despite
her daughter’s rampage, her
loved one was not getting
out of that child seat. It was
for her safety. Until the plane
was flying above anticipated
turbulence, the rules
established were protecting
her. She was not yet aware that
her mother’s ignoring of her
pleas was not abandonment
or a display of meanness, as it
may have seemed to the little
one. Many of us knew that
sooner or later, this delightful
child would give up, surrender
to her reality, and, in doing so,
would be delivered from the
agony of her rebellion.
Gradually, slowly but surely,
as the child’s resistance gave
way to acceptance, she calmed
down. She was still strapped
in where she didn’t want to
be—nothing changed on
the outside—yet the pace
of her breathing slowed and
deepened. She began to take
in the love of her mother. She
noticed the happenings outside
her plane window. She seemed
to enter a trance state, floating
almost, and, after a few more
whimpers, tension gone from
her body, she gradually drifted
off to sleep.
Then I remembered how
often I act like that when I
don’t get what I want, though
perhaps not as loudly or with
the same external fervor given
my more controlled adult
conditioning. Nonetheless,
inwardly at least, I carry on
my tantrum, begging God to
change my situation, feeling
victimized by life circumstance,
demanding my own way,
insisting I know better.
And I wonder how often God
waits patiently with me, as this
mother did with her daughter,
not giving in, but reassuring.
“Relax, David. I have the big
picture. I’m taking care of
you, and although you don’t
understand now, love is all
around you.”
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