Picky

9 months ago, my 5 year old son was a pretty good eater.  There were a couple things he would fuss over, but would eat them anyway.  One morning he woke up and wouldn’t eat anything except “cheese sandwich 2 triangles in a pan” (that’s a grilled cheese sandwich made in a pan cut twice to make 4 triangles) or quesadillas (Mexican grilled cheese).  If it grew on a plant, there was no way he was eating it.

I tried everything I could think of to broaden his horizons.  Even when I would force him to eat something other than his normal diet of cheese and bread, it felt like a Pyrrhic victory.  I might have won technically, but the fight and the effort just didn’t seem worth it.

“Just leave him alone,” his Oma advised me. “He’ll figure it out eventually.”

I gave her a skeptical eyebrow raise, half suspecting that she was just going easy on him when a line needed to be drawn.  After a battle one evening which lasted until well after his bedtime, I gave up.  I didn’t have the energy to battle him over food and to do everything else I needed to do in the day.  He would have to live on cheese, bread, juice, and milk. 

A few months later, he developed a passion for scrambled eggs and could easily eat 4 of them for breakfast.  (He’s a big kid for 5.)  While I was glad to see him broaden his horizons a bit, I still wished for a bit of plant something to make its way into his stomach.  (Hooray for multi-vitamins!)

Last night, I offered him steamed broccoli with his meal.  He eyed it skeptically and then ate the three pieces I had put on his plate.  No muss or fuss, just ate them down like he’d been doing it forever.  This evening it was peas.  He took one bite, thought it over for a bit, and then ate them all. 

I held my breath waiting for him to cry or complain, but it didn’t happen.  I think his body may go into shock.  Oma was right.  (Aren’t grandmothers always right?)

It’s got me thinking this evening.  What kinds of things has God placed in front of me which I haven’t wanted to even try?  What good things have I looked at and outright rejected without even trying them a little bit?  It seems like God, like any parent, tries hard to convince me of what He wants, but when I refuse, He just sits back…and waits.  Eventually, I put a toe in His direction and I discover that it wasn’t that hard or horrible after all.  The fuss and the fear was all coming from me.

How He must shake His head at me.  I’m not his first time at parenting.  There are no tricks I can pull out of my hat which He hasn’t already seen a thousand times (literally!)  Yet here I am, like my 5 year old, shaking my head and closing my eyes tight, refusing the good things He has placed before me.  If only I would trust Him, how much better off I would be.