This past Sunday, while listening to Adam discuss the story of Elijah, I had an epiphany. I realized what the greatest gift to all of mankind just might be.

Okay, maybe the second best.

But it falls pretty closely behind God’s redemptive love…still no guesses?

The Meijer Curbside. Or as I like to call it the, “Thanks for not making me the, ‘What did I just tell you? No! Put it back! I told you we’ll go right home without any ice cream!’ dad.” Now, if you’ve never gone grocery shopping with children you may not be familiar with this feeling, and you may not fully appreciate how magical curbside is.

But you know that dad.

You’ve seen that tantrum ensue.

You sat in the front row of the greatest cage match of all time. A thirty year old man going head-to-head with his three year old daughter. It’s always a good show… if you’re not the one in the cage.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my kids. I love being able to provide them with all of the cute clothes, tasty treats, and My little Ponies they can handle. But if I’m being honest, when Bella, my three year old, follows me down every aisle repeating those four maddening words, “But I need it!”, I cringe.

Even just writing about this right now send chills down my spine.

The response in my mind is always the same. “Bella, you have no idea what you need.” I know as soon as she gets what she is so sure she needs, she’s just going to “need” something else.

Plus I have to somehow teach a lesson about how we have to ask nicely and how we shouldn’t beg. But I know it’s going to fall on deaf ears. She’s just going to keep crawling down every aisle, crying and repeating, “Please Daddy! I need it! Please! Why can’t I have it?!” or the real gut punch, “I love you, Daddy, I promise if you get this for me I’ll be so good from now on.” A promise I know as a fact she cannot keep.

Oh and have you heard this one?

“Daddy, did you hear me? Why aren’t you talking to me?”

This is a pretty familiar story isn’t it? Chances are you’ve said that last one before. Maybe even recently. I know I have. As Adam broke down how God responded to Elijah as he ran from Jezebel. I pictured Elijah in the cave, crying, and begging God to give him what he “needs” so he can continue running.

“Daddy, did you hear me?”

My little girl in the store, begging me with her face to the floor, and arms stretched out to me to give her what she thought she needed. That’s what I pictured. That’s the image I had in the comfort of my chair while I knew she was playing in the Kids Zone. However, when it was happening live, all I could see was the pulsing of blood behind my eyes from the rage and embarrasment.

I’m sure both Elijah and Bella have their reasons for their cries. The same reasons I have when I cry to God. When I am begging for Him to give me what I “need”. When I my arms are stretched out to him to save me from this moment.

“Why aren’t you talking to me?”

I could write about how we ought not cry to God with our irrational needs. Or that we should simply be obedient to His will. Though, that’s not what I was reminded of that morning. Rather, I was reminded of my reactions.

My reactions to my kids. To my wife. My family.

To everyone.

Trust me, I see the parallels as a parent. I recognize how insolent I am to God’s will on my life and His ultimate agenda. Shouldn’t that then give me a greater ability to have patience and grace when I have a blotchy faced, snot nosed, award winning tantrum, on all fours chasing me down the bread aisle?

You would think…

Until recently I hadn’t really thought of it from that perspective at all. Elijah ran out of fear and directly disobeyed God’s agenda for him. God didn’t enter into the proverbial father vs child grocery store cage match. Instead, He listens to his blotchy faced child in the cave with the perfect patience that only God has. He listens. He then pateintly tells Elijah to go back and finish the job.

1st Kings 19:12–14

…And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And behold, there came a voice to him and said,

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

He said, “I have been very jealous for the Lord, the God of hosts. For the people of Israel have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword, and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my life, to take it away.”

Here’s the deal. Bella throws a tantrum and repeats the same rage invoking four words because that’s all she knows to do. She can’t escape that moment. She doesn’t know how to quiet the loop in her head.

“I need it. I need it. I need it…”

She’ll repeat that until she gets what she was working for, is punished, or gets distracted by something she “needs” more.

If I am able to see the connection of how childish my sin issues must seem to God and expect His forgiveness, why then do I struggle to extend that same grace and forgiveness to my children?

Why can’t we extend that same grace to our spouse? Or our parents? Siblings? Co-workers?

Or maybe the guy who just cut you off in traffic? And yes, especially the barista who can’t seem ever spell your name correctly?

“Seriously bro, how hard it is to just not add an H? Z-A-C…and stop.”

So what does this all point to then?

Grace.

It all points back to grace and God’s redemptive, perfect love. His example of how He responds to me when I “need” money, or a job, or an answer. That’s what I should be learning about.

That’s what I will be committing to.

Because, after all, when my van doors slide closed and the curbside attendant heads back inside, Bella will ask for a sucker. And when she doesn’t get the sucker she so desperately needs, I will do my best not to react in anger and irritation.

Rather, with grace and love.