Spoon-fed.

Yesterday, as I was feeding my cubby-cheeked cherub, I grew frustrated as she insisted on grabbing the spoon with her stubby fingers each time it left her mouth. I couldn't hardly blame her... turkey-cranberry-apple casserole sounded pretty delish to me, too. As I grabbed a paper towel, or five, I fussed, "Brookie! I can't give you what comes next if you don't let go of the spoon, silly girl!" As I pried the utensil out of her death-grip, she voiced her protest. I smiled and told her, "Listen, kiddo, what comes next is better than this empty old spoon!"

Suddenly, I was struck by the lesson to be learned. How often, in life, do I cling to a "spoon" containing merely minute remnants of something I loved, when, if I'd just loosen my grip, the "good stuff" is coming? How many times have I been so convinced that I know exactly what I need... when its just scraps... and a whole jar of wonderful goodness awaits? But, letting go of that old spoon takes some trust in Whomever holds it. And that Person obviously knows better. Thanks for the lesson, sweet child of mine!