Clutching Toys

Have you ever gone on a God Hunt? A God Hunt begins when you teach yourself to look for God’s hand at work in the every day occurrences of your life. Here’s one of my personal God Hunt Sightings:

I snapped up a plastic refrigerator sack of little toy animals for my grandson Neeham (Nehemiah), who is two years old. This $3.75 was one of my best purchases because Neeham invariably digs into the bag and comes us with a clutch of animals to play with and to carry around wherever he goes in our house.

Though the fistful of toys may be Neehan’s version of a security blanket, it does present some problems:

First, he cannot pick up anything else, not even more dinosaurs, snakes, fish or crabs (this is the sea-animal bag). If he tries, some inevitably drop to the floor though he attempts to retrieve them (leaving another turtle that doesn’t quite make it). This is a source of frustration to Neeham, who sometimes resorts to (dare I name it?) temper tantrums.

Next, it is impossible to pull a coat over Neeham’s full and clenched fist. We attempt to pry the little fingers open, explaining that we are just putting his coat on and that he can have the toys back. “No,” he protests. “Mine!” In fact, I am reminded by this repeated drama by our front door that the wearing of winter coats is more of an adult’s concern than it is a two-year-old’s.

Last, this greedy security habit of my grandson’s is fast depleting the plastic bag of water-loving miniatures. Of course, again, this is more my concern than it is Neeham’s. Supply and demand is an adult’s prerogative. Little children don’t worry about what they will play with when the source of toys is gone.

How often God attempts to pray open our clutched fists. He has something richer to give us, something to warm us against the cold, something more exciting to put in our hands to replace the snakes and other creepy-crawly creatures.

Yet, our proprietorship is firmly established. “Mine!” we announce, clutching more tightly and clenching our fists to our chest. But the truth is, we’ve become too old to carry “dinosaurs” in our hands. We need to move beyond the childlike stages of spiritual maturity. Better pay attention to the Grandma at the front door. My lifelong experience in clutching things too tightly is that if we don’t let go of our well-loved playthings when God asks them of us, we may force Him to find a harsher means to convince us that we best let go.

So. What is it you are clutching in your tiny fists? Is God asking you to let go? He needs to pull on that winter coat to protect you from the blows and windstorms of misfortune. He can see into your future and has a reason for asking for your fistful of clutched toys. This secret I have also learned (hold it to your heart): Our Heavenly Grandparent never takes away something from us without replacing it (eventually) with something better.

Pay attention.

I spy God!