Toy Shark

Phnom Penh just finished celebrating the Water Festival. This is a celebration usually marked by boat races and thousands of people swarming the city to attend all the festivities. If any of you recall hearing about the bridge stampede last year that killed over three hundred people, last week marked the one year anniversary of that tragedy. This years water festival was very different. The boat races were canceled because of the flooding & many people went home to their villages to be with their families instead of staying in the city. 

The girls and I had three days off from Daughters & language school. We decided to spend one of these days relaxing poolside at the Kabiki hotel, what feels like a tropical oasis hidden away from the dusty, busy city streets. It was an absolutely gorgeous day; a bit overcast & breezy. I lazily lounged while sipping my smoothie & reading my latest book of interest, “Blue Like Jazz,” a very honest & witty account of one man’s struggle through owning his faith. I am in a place where I can relate very well to the things he is expressing…almost as if they were my words. 

Because The Kabiki is a hotel that caters to families, soon I became distracted by three kids. There were two big kids probably about ten years old and the tag along brother who was probably no older than four and a half.  I watched as they played with their toy sharks as if there were no worries in the world. I observed as one kid naturally became the boss and assertively instructed the other two how toy sharks should be handled.   

The youngest eventually was left alone toy-less in the kiddy pool & as the big kids went on to play in the deeper waters. He immediately began whimpering under his breath for the plastic shark toy that he felt robbed of. His whimpering soon turned into a soft cry that eventually turned into weeping, then screaming as he threw a tantrum. 

I watched as his dad walked over to comfort him. He squatted down placing his hands on his sons shoulders as he gently spoke to him words of consolation. Unsurprisingly however, this father’s patient attempt to calm his son only made things worse. His son chose to keep his eyes fixed on the problem rather than the love his father was trying to offer. “I want the shark!” he screamed as he stomped his little feet. Eventually mom came over to handle the rest of the situation and carried him away. His fit only grew worse. 

My initial reaction was to giggle a bit as I was amused by his cute, four and half year old tantrum. Soon my amusement turned into agitation as the pitch of his screeching yelps rose higher & louder & wouldn’t stop. Finally they packed up their things a left. 

Little did I know God was going to use this child to school me.

 “How many times do you throw fits with Me when you don’t get what you want out of me? How often do you refuse to accept the comfort I freely offer? How often are your eyes set on the ‘toy shark’ rather than My love? How often do you forfeit the blessing I have in store for you because you refuse to shift your focus?” 

I can’t help but wonder how differently the situation would have played out if the boy would have chosen to receive the Father’s comfort in exchange for the toy shark…