Alotta Frittata

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Several weeks ago, on a Friday morning God gave me a teensy weensy insight into His love as a Father for me.

This is what little kids are best at, giving their parents perfect little lessons straight from heaven. So much we have to learn from them! Through their innocence and in training them as parents, we are blessed to have windows of insight from an eternal realm.

I knew exactly what Charlie wanted for breakfast that morning. I always know before he asks.

Every morning goes the exact same way.  Corral the big kids downstairs, quietly so as to not wake the baby, then start preparing eggs, bowls of yogurt, pouring ‘green juice’ and fielding the ten thousand questions that are plaguing their brains in the 10 minutes they’ve been awake.

It’s a constant ‘yes, yes, I know, uh huh, ok, not now, it’s coming‘ marathon.

This morning was different. I wanted to make a frittata with all my gloriously roasted leftover veggies from the previous’ nights dinner. You know, just whisk some eggs, milk, salt, pepper, veggies…pour in a pan and bake @ 350. No biggie. Quite easy actually.

But I knew Charlie, as every morning goes, was deliriously hungry. And he remains quite impulsive and impaitient.

Yet, as his mom, I know him better than anyone, and I knew he was completely capable of waiting.

At the moment, a frittata was more of a pressing issue to get in the oven since it had a longer cook time than prepping Charlie’s breakfast. Which could easily be done, just as soon as I slid the frittata in the oven. I could see how this timeline would work out perfectly. It made sense, I had a plan, a plan that fit Charlie’s needs and also, accomplished other good things.

However, Charlie did not understand this plan. He did not think he was capable of waiting, of trusting, the plan. Oh he tried to ‘pretend’ to understand the plan and leave the kitchen several times, only to stroll back in the other entrance, coming right back up to my hip tugging on my shirt. He whined, he begged,

‘Did you make my eggs yet?” “Did you hear me, Mom” “Mom? Mom?” “Mom, do you hear what I want?!” “Mom did you forget?”

Until finally after total exasperation I hissed,

“Of course I heard you! I told you several times I hear you! Don’t I feed you every morning? Have I ever not met your needs? Have I forgotten yet? Then what makes you think I would forget now?”

Light. Bulb.

How I stood there stunned realizing I’m Charlie. I’m Charlie waiting for breakfast every day in prayer with  God. I tug on his shirt, follow him around the house,

‘ Hey, Dad! Did you HEAR me? Are you listening? What’s going to happen? What if? What if? What if?”

And He’s all like,

“You’re capable of whatever the plan is, because I’m your Father and I made the plan to fit your needs and take care of you. You need to trust me. When have I EVER not taken care of you?”

Touche’ Holy Spirit.

Sometimes the Holy Spirit speaks to us so, so loudly through our kids. Heck, all of the time. These kids just keep chiseling away at our sinfulness, perfecting us, teaching us. Each and every one of them in a different way.

Now I’m working on that trust thing after it was put in perspective so blatantly for me. He always hears us, he knows before we ask. Just calm down, take a chill pill, because sometimes He’s just got a whole lot of frittata to take of of first.

 

 

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3 thoughts on “Alotta Frittata

  1. Oh my gosh, that was so good. Thank you for writing it and sharing. I’m crying a little bit. You’re right, having children teaches us so much about God’s love, it’s a blessing

  2. The Holy Spirit ever so gently touches our hearts to grow them up each and every day…each year building upon the last. This is such a beautiful example of a living God- daily present in our lives…Thankyou for sharing the graces you have received; the ability to see Him! Brava! Brava, well, done! NN:+:

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