Today I began, attempted, started, tried, embarked on potty training my 2.5 year old. Today was not a success. There weren't even really any small successes. And I found myself getting really down about the whole thing. I kept telling myself that she would not pee her pants forever. That one day she'll be just like me. Able to hold it like a pro and make it in the toilet and all. I tried to picture her as a teenager. And of course, I don't picture myself hoisting her up on the baby changing table. She will do it. But still I couldn't shake my frustrated state.
This afternoon, a friend called to tell me news about her family's future in missions. There is apprehension about their safety and health, etc. So in other words, someone with REAL problems. Problems that don't involve wet pants. So this made me feel even more down about feeling down about potty training. How can I be so wrapped up in something so trivial? Blah blah blech.
All of this does have a point. I was thinking about the story in the Bible when Paul gets lowered over the city wall in a basket. He couldn't have known, as he got in, whether the attempt to escape would be successful or not. He just got in, and went for it. Trusted that the outcome was being controlled by someone bigger than himself. And that whatever happened to him, good or bad, it would be a "happy" ending because it was God's will.
So here I am, potty training, knowing that the ending will be happy. Here are my friends, preparing to go overseas, knowing they have to go to be happy. But today we are in the middle of the wall. We're not inside the city, and we haven't made it out yet. We are in the process of being lowered over the wall. With all the emotions that involves. But we will get to the bottom someday. And escape.