It’s what’s for dinner

We enjoy watching “Iron Chef America” when we get the chance. Not so much when kitchen stadium visits our kitchen and Battle: Dinner ensues.

Isabelle wouldn’t eat her dinner tonight, even though it contained one of her favorite vegetables in the whole world, peas. She ate a few peas and proclaimed dinner over. This also could have been because she was in the middle of a “Dora the Explorer” episode and we were not eating in the kitchen because we were in the middle of a severe thunderstorm and I wanted to keep within earshot of the local news.

An hour later, after Dora and thunderstorm had passed, she began her requests to fulfill the hunger she now had.

“I want something else,” she calmly stated while looking at the shelves where the fruit snacks, cereal and snack cakes often find a home.

I told her she needed to eat her dinner.

“But I want something else,” she said a little more forcefully this time.

Again, “no.”

She took matters into her own hands, pulling a chair to the shelves, as if to illustrate that what she wanted was on one of these shelves and she could show me what she wanted if I didn’t understand her.

I told her if she pulled anything off the shelves, she was going to time out.

She reached for a box of Life cereal and proceeded to land herself in time out where she kicked and screamed and cried and lamented, “But I want something else.”

I dished up a bowl of the pasta salad I’d made and set her in front of it with a fork when time out was done. She continued to cry, “But I want something else.”

I ignored her pleas and fed Corban green beans. In the midst of her tears, she picked up her fork and began to eat. Tears subsided. And as she took bite after bite, she even said, “Thank you, Mommy” as she ate. The next time she left the table, her bowl was three-quarters empty.

I tell you this, not to brag, but because I feel like lately I’ve been telling God, “But I want something else.” Calmly. Rationally. Then hysterically, as if I’m sure He can’t hear me or understand what I’m asking for. Doesn’t He know I’m hungry, so to speak, and that I need Him to provide?

Yes, of course He does. But what He’s given me is what’s for “dinner” for the moment and I can take it and walk away fed or leave it and continue to be hungry.

I think I’m ready to eat what God’s serving for dinner, and I might even thank Him for it.

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