Two days ago, my girls were fighting. More like, one girl was screaming, and the other was being stubbornly quiet and aloof.
I stepped in as Referee since Screamer would not stop, she was so worked up and upset, her volatile mood suggesting physical retribution would soon follow if things didn't change.
Me, to Aloof: Did you do what she is accusing you of?
Aloof: No. (with shoulder shrugs and hair tosses included for emphasis)
Screamer interjects: She DID!
Me, to Screamer: I'm taking care of it, please be quiet.
Screamer: But she DID!
Me, to Screamer: OK, I'm talking to her about it, you need to let me take care of it.
Me, to Aloof: So, did you do this? If not, what's your side of the story?
Aloof: No, I didn't. (then tightly seals lips as if there's nothing left to say)
Screamer has now calmed down to being more of a Loud Whiner...: Yes she DIIIIDDDD...
Aloof: No I didn't, harrumph.
Loud Whiner: Yes you DIIIDDDD...
Me, to Loud Whiner: Stop! I heard you the first time, I know there is a problem, and I'm here taking care of it! You need to stop whining and be quiet - let me take care of it!
This was one of those profound moments when God says "Ahem!" in my head, and I hear His heart through the words I've just spoken to my child.
I've had those times when I'm so frustrated, so upset, so wrapped up in a problem - so I do the right thing by taking it to God, but then even after giving it to Him, I keep going. Every time I talk to God about it again, I get worked up and upset again. And if I talk to someone else, I know I sound whiney, even though I don't want to, really, it's just such an issue, you know.
And He's sitting there waiting.
Waiting for me to give it up entirely.
And even though I know He's the most perfectly patient Father, He's gently saying:
You know, I heard you the first time, my child. I know there is a problem, and I AM here taking care of it. Will you stop whining... and let me take care of it?