Plastic Crap. He Is All We Need

Here’s what I hate:  The plastic crap that you get from vending machines at grocery store exits across our great nation.  

Oh, it’s brilliant on the part of plastic-crap distributors everywhere.  They get a mass-produced stretchy bracelet, spider ring, bouncy ball, or parachute man for like 1.5 cents and then sell it to spoiled suburban kids for a quarter or even 50 cents!  The profit has to be pretty amazing!

For some reason, these items always cause problems.  Either they don’t work at all.  (Gee, I wonder why.)  Or they break instantly. (Because they are made of crap!) OR, my all-time favorite, my children fight over it in the car... 

The following actually happened in our car a few years ago.

That’s MY [stupid, cheap, ugly] pink ring I got.

No, it’s not, you got the purple one—I got the pink one.

Nuh uh!

Uh huh!

Give it back!

Don’t scratch me!  Mom!  She scratched my arm!!!

Mom, she has MY ring!!!

About here is when I pulled the car over, reached back and snatched the idiotic ring and then threw it out the window.

Yes, I littered.

So sue me.

Anyhoo…

The other option is, of course, spending the 25 cents for a disgusting old gumball that could break your jaw or make you choke and maintains its flavor for about 3.5 seconds.  (I timed it once.)

Meanwhile, my own spoiled kids always ask for a quarter if they see those machines.  I actually think that they enjoy putting the money in and turning that cool silver turny thingy more than getting the actual plastic “toy” or 13-year-old flavorless gumball.  (This trains the young consumer to get a "high" from merely purchasing an item!)

Anyway, earlier this week, I was on a quick grocery trip with my eldest.  And even though you might think that a middle school kid wouldn’t beg for a quarter for one of those machines, you’d be wrong. 

She didn’t whine.  She just asked nicely.

I gave my typical knee-jerk “no, not today.”  Answer. 

She didn’t push it.

Then in a split second, I realized how grown up she was being.  I knew that she wouldn’t be a little girl asking me for quarters for much longer, so I acquiesced.

She was delighted!

 

So silly.  I thought as I watched her kneel down to turn the cool silver turny thingy.

Then, I whipped out my camera to capture the moment because I thought I might write a blog about how we are just like those spoiled children—constantly begging God for this or that thing we think will make us happy and God all along knowing how goofy and worthless it actually is in light of eternity. 

Sounds like a good blog, no?

However, then, she turned around with that smile on her face.

Blue gumball.

She had gotten her favorite color.

What a little blessing.

What a sweet surprise.

She popped that hard, blue ball of old sugar in her mouth and smiled as she attempted to chew it up on our way to the car.  She even said thank you which was adorable with that one cheek full of gum like chipmunk.  

In that moment, God changed His lesson to me.

Instead of pointing out how dumb kids are to want that plastic crap from nifty machines, I felt myself seeing the moments of contentment children convey. 

You’ve heard how happy kids are with cardboard boxes or sticks or a simple sandbox.  Children are thrilled with the simplest things—candy, pillow fights, bubbles. 

And yet, adults are rarely content with those simple pleasures. 

God blesses us with things great and small—things natural and things manmade—yet, we tend to ignore all of it—looking only to the things we can’t have or haven’t received yet. 

Truthfully, God is pouring quarters into our grubby little hands faster than we can spend them.  And yet, the moment we pull out our “prize” we wanted so badly, we loose interest in it. 

Abigail was happy with what she received.

She got up and walked with me.

She said thank you.

We, on the other hand, are rarely happy with what we receive.  Even when we get our favorite color, we might still be bitter about the last time we got a broken bracelet.  

Instead of getting up with grateful hearts, we remain—kneeling to the plastic promises of worldly pleasures—perusing Pintrest for things we don’t have, and comparing ourselves to the kid next door.

God showed me a picture of contentment through my daughter.  He showed me how I should be grateful for the little things and that being content with what I am given is the first step to walking with Him and realizing that He is better and more fulfilling than any of His gifts. 

I am close to tears as I see myself—a discontented, ungrateful consumer bowed low to the idols of all I don’t have. 

But, guess what?

God didn’t stomp out of the store and leave us there.

He sent Jesus who kneels down right next to us, turns our tear stained face towards His own and reveals to us that true comfort and peace and fulfillment come in Him alone. 

Here's what I love:

He is all we need.