Learning to hug the floor

​​If I am being honest, I must admit that in my adult years, in almost every (if not every) life stage, I have been ready and eager to see the next one arrive. The next season always had the hope of circumstances or events occurring that the current season lacked.  When I was single, I wanted to be married. When I worked in the business world, I wanted to be in ministry. When I had an apartment, I wanted a house. The list could go and on. I believe that this “next stage” hope is something many of us fall into on a regular basis. We are continually looking for the next season because the future still holds hope and mystery. It’s full of potential whereas our present is full of monotony.  
 
My daughter is almost 11 months old and is trying to figure out walking, which is a typical time frame if not a little early. However, crawling was a whole different matter. She refused to crawl! We tried getting down on our hands and knees and showing her; we tried propping her up on all fours; we tried helping her move her legs and arms. Nothing. Instead, we caught her many times, hugging the floor. I know, it’s odd, but that’s what she did! She would lay down and put her arms out, and head down, and just enjoy being on the floor. Sometimes she would even lick it, much to my dismay.  Think I’m exaggerating? Just look!
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One day, as I was trying to get her to crawl, and she assumed the “hug a floor” position with a big smile on her face, I was struck with the truth that Eliza is content. She was in no hurry to move onto the next life stage. In a moment of transparency, I had to ask myself, isn’t that what God has asked of me? To not only be content with His timing, His plan, and His provision, but to even find joy in it? I have tried to manipulate my circumstances to get me out of this stage when I could have been resting in it. As I looked at my daughter, I realized I needed to be more like her (minus the licking the floor part) and less in a hurry.

The truth is, the present isn’t monotony and routine if I’m living with the expectation that God is working- even through the mundane.  And more often than not, not only is God working in the mundane, He’s working on me in that time. Maybe I need to figure out an adult version of the “hug a floor” pose.

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