The Runaway

When I was little...I mean pigtails little...I would get angry about things and quite often "run away". I started this mean and ugly trick when I was about 4. I would get angry or upset about really important stuff. For instance...Chele's birthday would come in Sept. and I'd have to wait til Nov. THE NERVE of my parents to not make our birthdays at the same time so that I could get presents too...but to make matter worse, Chele had long hair and my Mom cut mine very short. After we washed our hair, Chele would get to go swing on the swing set to dry her long, beautiful hair and I would have to stand under the hair dryer with Mom rolling my pixie cut...AND THEN Chele would beat me to the front seat...always. You see what I mean? Clearly, Mom and Dad liked her better. I had to do something. I had to make a point. I had to get their attention.

I AM RUNNING AWAY.

That will teach them. I yelled the words and waited for the tears. I had it all worked out in my head. They'd cry and beg me not to leave. They'd fall to their knees telling me how much they loved me and how sorry they were to have Chele first! Yep...it was a fool proof plan.

But that didn't happen.

My Mom calmly said..."Ok honey. If that is what you think is best, I'll help you pack a bag." WHAT? You'll help me pack a bag? Are you serious? I remember telling her I'd pack my own bag...and off to my room I went. I packed Ethel and Lou...my cabbage patch kids...my special pooh bear blanket...a couple of pairs of underwear...some socks and a jacket. As I walked out to the front door, Mom handed me a brown paper sack. In it was a sandwich, some chips and a banana. "I thought you might get hungry while you're away", she said. And the last thing I remember...she said,

"you know you are always welcome to come back and live here, but you will live by our rules. We love you."

AND THEN SHE SHUT THE DOOR. There I was on the porch...alone...with Ethel and Lou and a banana. Because I am stubborn, I sat out there long enough to eat the lunch and then I knocked on the door. I cried and asked if I could come back in. And then...I was not only invited in, but sent to my room for the rest of the day for the "little stunt I pulled". (Mom's exact words)

The other day Brady told me he wanted a new Mom. Ouch. He hasn't pulled the runaway card yet, but I fully expect it from that one. It hurt to hear him say it...but I finally knew what it felt like to hear the words I used to yell at my parents...about twice a week.

And it got me thinking...I don't always say those words to God...but I am a runaway for sure. When things get tough, I run the other way. I say mean things and turn my back. And I can hear him saying the same things that my Mom told me...

You are welcome to come back and live here, but you will live by my rules...because I love you.

The rules of being a Christian are not always easy to live by...but are so rewarding. I won't be trading my God in for a new one anytime soon...and I think I'll try to stay with him when times get tough. Running away never got me very far from my problems and tended to create bigger ones at that. But when I knocked on the door to say I was sorry...they always let me back in.

Matthew 7:7-8

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.

Have a blessed Saturday!
Amy