We have a bedtime routine in our house. Go to the bathroom, wash hands, brush teeth. Get in bed, read a story, sing some songs, and pray. It’s the same every night. Izzy still has trouble with it, but she’s had a lot of transitions in her life. She’s lived in 4 different homes, which means 4 different beds in just 4 years of life.
But Eva only remembers one home. She’s only had one bed. And bedtime has been the same for her for 20 months. And she loves bedtime. She snuggles up in her bed with her blanket and turtle and goes right to sleep without incident. It’s wonderful.
Tonight, something strange happened.
She grabbed the only book she could reach from her crib, which happened to be If You Take a Mouse to the Movies. She began to flip through the pages, mumbling to herself. Izzy often thinks aloud that Eva must speak in Spanish cause we can’t understand her. Eva paused in the middle of the book and pointed a picture of a mouse singing a song. She began to say, “Baby cry,” over and over again. At first it was just her talking. Then she started to sound upset. And then she began to cry.
“Baby, baby, baby,” she cried over and over again.
I took the book away because I thought it was upsetting her. She lied down with her blanket and continued to cry about the baby. I found a baby doll in the house, thinking that was what she wanted. But, no… it was that book. She finally calmed down and asked for the book again. I gave it to her and she started to read happily.
Then she came to that page again, the one with the singing mouse, and began to cry once more.
“Baby, baby, baby,” over and over again.
And try as I might, she would not be convinced that it was not a baby. And that the non-baby was not crying.
This continued for 30 minutes. Heart wrenching, pitiful tears about a mouse that was singing. Because, to her, it didn’t look like a singing mouse. It looked like a crying baby.
How many tears have I shed over something that wasn’t really what I thought it was?
How many times have I allowed myself to get upset over something that was just a misunderstanding?
Or worse yet…
Have I ever been upset with God at a situation in my life… because… as I saw the situation… it was not right. It was not okay. God must not have known what He was doing. He must not have had my best in mind… Perhaps from my perspective, that’s what it looked like. But I wonder what it looked like from His perspective?
You know, the One Who’s ways are higher than mine? The One who thinks outside of time and space. The One Who sees how it’s all gonna end… or begin, better yet. The One Who sees every page of my life, every page of their lives, every page of my mom’s life.
Cause from my perspective, I often see things a lot differently than Him.
Eva was heartbroken tonight over a book that had a picture of a crying baby.
But from my perspective, I saw that it was a singing mouse. A happy, joyful singing mouse. And if Eva could have seen that too, she would not have shed one single sad tear.