This morning, I made biscuits for breakfast. Not the homemade kind, mind you. The Pillsbury Dough-boy kind. (Though I’m trying to revert back to mostly food from scratch in our home, I’ve yet to find a delicious biscuit recipe to call my own. Suggestions anyone?)
Anyway, I sliced the biscuits in half and plated them with a sausage patty and some fresh fruit. Just as I was spreading butter and strawberry jam on the biscuits as the finishing touch, Little Bit wandered into the kitchen.
He raised up onto his tip-toes to peer over the counter and watch what I was doing. (I love it when they do that. And as I wrote that sentence, I realized that I don’t have many more days with kids in my house who can’t see over the kitchen counter. Sniff.) When I was finished with the butter and jam, I took the two halves of the biscuit and placed them back together like a sandwich.
“No!,” Little Bit said. “I want two biscuits. Not one!”
“There are still two biscuits,” I said, and I separated the halves again to show him. But he insisted that NO, THERE. WERE. NOT. So I laid the two halves of the biscuit side-by-side, and off to the kitchen table Little Bit went.
Happy as a clam. With “two” biscuits in tow.
I laughed at our exchange as I began putting things back into the refrigerator. Kids are quirky, aren’t they?
Now for my teacher readers out there, I realize that a four-year-old isn’t probably developmentally mature enough to understand that two halves of a biscuit and a whole biscuit equal the same amount of food. I know Little Bit wasn’t being disagreeable. He just didn’t understand that they were one in the same. And by golly, he wanted two biscuits for breakfast! It was similar to the “Great Smoothie Debate” we had last fall:
But I also realized that what’s developmentally challenging for young children can plague adults too. Not because we don’t have the faculties to understand but because we choose to view things from the wrong perspective.
Instead of viewing our life from the vantage point of our abundance, we zero in on the scarcity and allow it to consume us. We spend our time focusing on what others have and comparing it to what we don’t have. We hone in on that one thing that’s wrong with our life, and we get stuck. Instead of blooming where we’re planted, we wish we were somewhere else.
In this season of life where I find myself in a bit of an undefined transition, this is an easy trap for me to fall into. Because I deeply long to find my place in ministry within the context of our new church. I yearn for a new role that will allow me to better meld my passions with my job. And I need to gain better focus and clarity with respect to what God is calling me to do. In each of these areas, I’m experiencing some scarcity. And yet my life is filled with abundance in so many other ways.
I’m married to my best friend.
I have three amazing children.
I have a family network of support that many people only dream of.
I have a job that affords me more flexibility than I deserve and includes a team of people I love.
I live in a beautiful home, in a beautiful neighborhood, in a great city.
And I get the privilege of being Kory’s partner in ministry in a great church.
So while I’m seeking to address the scarcity in my life, I need not forget to also ponder my abundance. Because when I view my life from that perspective, I realize that my cup? Well, it overflows.
What about you? Are you viewing the world as if you have one or two biscuits today?