"Mine!"

This story was originally published in Signs of the Times, February 2006.

"Mine!"

“Chell, come play! C’mon, Chell!” I was babysitting, and three-year-old Caleb was constantly calling “Chell” (a nick-name) to “come play car-cars”.

After putting a stack of towels in the closet and checking the washer, I headed to the living room, glad to be able to leave the laundry for a minute, and satisfy little Caleb. I sat down beside him on the carpet and reached for one of the miniature cars he was so fond of. To my surprise, he immediately frowned, then jerked it out of my hands, crying, “Mine!”

 Somewhat dazed, in the light of the fact that he had been begging all afternoon for me to come play, I decided that perhaps I had picked his favorite toy. I smiled and reached for a different “car-car”. When I received another frown, equally or perhaps still more withering than the first, I decided to let him play in peace, since he obviously didn’t desire my association.

 I returned to the laundry, only to hear, after a few moments of whooshing and whizzing on the living room floor, “Chell! C’mon, Chell. Come play!”

 What sort of a response do you suppose I received this time? Yes, he was no more willing to share than before. It didn’t take long for me to realize that he had no intention of actually allowing me to use one of his beloved “car-cars”. He only wanted my companionship until it required my interference in his play, which, of course, made it impossible to satisfy him.

 As I returned to the laundry for the second time, I began to recognize the truly awesome character of God’s grace. We’re all so much like Caleb; so immature spiritually, although we don’t even realize it. We want God to work in our lives, rid us of sinful habits, and to fit us for heaven: we honestly do want to become more Christ-like, and to find the peace, joy and serenity that only God can give, yet when He reaches for our pride, self-centeredness, envy, gossip, ego, or self-pity, we suddenly think of only the “sacrifice,” the surrender, the submission, and, in the vehemence of a spiritual tantrum, we shout “Mine, mine, mine!” We think of Jesus asking us to take up our crosses; we remember the verse that says, “Take my yoke upon you” (Matt. 11:29), but we fail to recall the rest of His admonition, when He says, “For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.”(Matt.11: 30)

As I pondered this, it occurred to me that, while I might give up and return to my household tasks, God continues to wait patiently for me to decide that surrender is really the best choice, and that genuine joy will only come when I quit shouting “Mine” and begin to say “Yours.”

“C’mon, Chell! Come play!” I heard from the living room. I just smiled.

Next time you find yourself reserving some cherished sin from the control of the Master, remember Caleb, swallow “Mine”, and say “Yours”.