“The word of the Lord came to Jonah, son of Amittai:  “Go to the great city of Nineveh and preach against it, because its wickedness has come up before me.” But Jonah ran away from the Lord and headed for Tarshish. He went down to Joppa, where he found a ship bound for that port. After paying the fare, he went aboard and sailed for Tarshish to flee from the Lord. Then the Lord sent a great wind on the sea, and such a violent storm arose that the ship threatened to break up.  All the sailors were afraid and each cried out to his own god. And they threw the cargo into the sea to lighten the ship.

But Jonah had gone below deck, where he lay down and fell into a deep sleep. The captain went to him and said, “How can you sleep? Get up and call on your god! Maybe he will take notice of us so that we will not perish.” Then the sailors said to each other, “Come, let us cast lots to find out who is responsible for this calamity.” They cast lots and the lot fell on Jonah. So they asked him, “Tell us, who is responsible for making all this trouble for us? What kind of work do you do? Where do you come from? What is your country? From what people are you?” He answered, “I am a Hebrew and I worship the Lord, the God of heaven, who made the sea and the dry land.” This terrified them and they asked, “What have you done?”” (They knew he was running away from the Lord, because he had already told them so). -Jonah 1:1-10 

I’m a nanny. It’s a job which has provided me more than a few life lessons. Today, especially. I brought the four-year-old home from preschool, and reminded her of the chores she had to complete before eating lunch. I made lunch and returned to her. She failed to complete her tasks and instead chose to sit and fiddle with a toy. Usually, I don’t have any profound thoughts or nanny-wisdom. But as I watched her, I knew what I needed to say to her. I walked over and sat in front of her.

“Sweetheart, you’re still playing with your toy. You know what you need to do, and when you finish that chore, you can have lunch and lunch will be yummy and give you more energy. Why are you choosing to forego that to play with this toy?”

I didn’t get to finish my “talk” when her brow furrowed with understanding and she jumped up to complete her task. I gave myself a little nanny-pat on the back, and then a softer voice nudged at my heart.

“Yes, little one, why are you choosing to forego what I have given to you so that you may continue playing with your mud pies?”

Oh. And then I remembered Jonah, God’s prophet, who was expected to listen, obey, and convey the words of God to whomever was supposed to hear. Until one day, when Jonah heard a message that was outside of his little will, he decided it was a better plan to play hooky on God. Maybe God wouldn’t notice him sail off to Tarshish? But God did, and He sent a storm to show Jonah that He wasn’t changing His mind. This task had been given to Jonah, and Jonah was going to do it.

The whole situation reminded me of something C.S. Lewis once wrote: “We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

How often in life do I actively choose passivity against the Royal Way of God? (The Royal Way is how Brother Andrew described living a life surrendered to God in his autobiography God’s Smuggler).

How often am I content to sit fiddling with something I am willing to pretend is of greater importance than that which is actually the greater task?

Lunch for my four-year old is a necessity vital to her well-being. Her jacket on the floor and shoes in the corner were chores that demanded attention. They could not be left where they were, they would get in the way of others living in the house, and other hosts of things could occur to them. She needed to eat. She wanted to eat. In order to eat, there was a submission and subsequent action that needed to occur. She had to put away the jacket and shoes.

Because she is four, she doesn’t see the action/result of things - she desires to have fun. But, her play wasn’t fun, it was costing her lunch and, worse comes to worse, maybe even a timeout. She fiddled with this toy house, pretending not to listen to us, but I know a guilty conscience when I see one. She wasn’t having fun, and she wasn’t even procrastinating. She was actively choosing not to respond to the appointed task I gave her.

Is this sounding familiar? Can you relate? What strikes me in the metaphor, is that she was playing with this toy, which in its proper time was a delightful thing for her, and yet now, she played with an apathetic face. It wasn’t being used for it’s true function, it was something she fixated herself upon with the intent to busy herself against what I requested of her.

It resonated with me because I wonder: what I have been misusing in my life? Do I watch that show out of enjoyment in its proper time? Or do I do it to drown God out? Do I really like working that extra job? Or am I doing it so I’m too busy for God? If I actually committed to obedience, what was God asking me to do?

I don’t quite know. I know the big picture and the tasks that make sense to complete right now. But I realized I haven’t been paying attention to His voice. He’s been talking and I’ve been playing.

It’s time to listen and, with God’s help, obey. Because even though I have to pack for that holiday at sea, it’s still infinitely better than remaining in the slum, sloshing around mud pies.

What has God given you that you are actively ignoring in your life? I encourage you today to choose the better way and put down your mud for a beach ball.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mia Grace loves sunflowers, words, old hardcover books, and fountain pens. She adores Jesus Christ, and seeks to listen and obey him in her life. Her life verse is Isaiah 52:7, and her prayer is for every girl to grasp the height, weight, depth, width, and power of Christ's love for them.