Tales from my Trails

Brooke. Nineteen. Living for God. Writing for herself. Searching for a home.

Today, my little one taught me something.

He was horribly fussy all morning and it only got worse as the day went on. He was not happy with any game, toy, or adventure I suggested. A few times he gave in, figuring that he might as well make the best of  his time. But as soon as I went into the other room, for even a second, his cries echoed through out the house. He was just so upset, eyes on the verge of tears all day and there was nothing his nanny could do. I felt so helpless. He would constantly cry out for his “Mama”, knowing she could make this horribly tiresome day better. He eventually ran up the stairs and into her office. I wish I could describe the joy that instantly erupted on his tiny face. I envied that her mere presence was enough to turn around his whole day. She was all that mattered to him.

And then it hit me. We are all cranky, upset, three year olds.

We constantly try and fill our lives with earthly things whether it be books, relationships, clothes, or family. We think we can self medicate but the truth is we are only making it worse. There are some things that only our Creator can mend. Only God is the permanent fix. And for this we must run to him. Always.

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