Wife Rule #53: We Know From Whence We Came

My wife's recent pregnancy, and the accompanying obvious change in her profile, sparked curiosity from our young children. One day, as two-year-old Andrew was quizzing her about the baby, my wife was trying to explain that it would come out of Mommy's tummy.

"And Dawn came out of Mommy's tummy. And Rachel came out of Mommy's tummy. And Scott came out of Mommy's tummy," she indicated. Then, attempting to help Andrew discover and appreciate his own origins, she prompted, "Where did Andrew come from?"

Andrew considered this question carefully. And then with an excited gleam in his eye, he exclaimed in his two-year-old toddlerspeak, "Probly Andrew came from a Tash Cuck! Yea!"

Well, what self-respecting two-year-old boy wouldn't want to believe he came from a trash truck? It's big, it's noisy, it's powerful, it smells funny, and it has a giant mechanical claw that can heft huge trash cans way up in the air. It's the height of coolness. It's even better than a dump truck. Or a digger. A trash truck is Big Time when you're two years old.

I bet a trash truck eats dessert first. I bet a trash truck gets two stories at bed time.

So Andrew kind of had it figured out, as far his origins were concerned, and he was happy. In fact, he was so excited about it that my wife and I didn't bother to dispute his conclusions right then. Why not let him Live the Dream for a little longer?

But alas, eventually he will have to grow up. And when he does, a wonderful surprise awaits him: Andrew will discover his true origins as a child of God with infinite potential. And when he grasps and embraces this truth, his life will change forever. Knowing his true identity can and should influence the way he sees not only himself, but the entire world around him and every other person in it.

As cute as it is to get a peek inside a toddler's temporary misunderstandings, isn't it also just a little sad how often we as adults sometimes cling to the crazy notion that we came from a trash truck too? Don't we too often shortchange our own worth, whether it's seeing ourselves as big and bulky and noisy, or believing we smell funny, or whatever other real or imaginary shortcomings we choose to dwell on? Do some of us sometimes deliberately choose to consume the garbage of the world simply because we believe that's all we deserve? Don't all of us live a little beneath our potential, at least sometimes?

Like Andrew, we too, come from a divine heritage. We were meant to live above the refuse of the world. We were designed for something better. In fact, we were meant to have the very best. When the Savior promised His followers that He was going before them, to prepare mansions in heaven for them (see John 14:2-4), I get the feeling that He has something pretty grand in mind for all of us.

We know where to go, and we know the way there, because He showed us. His plan is universal; it's meant for everyone. It's a pretty neat plan that way. Whether we choose to rise to the occasion or not is entirely up to us.

Even those of us who love trash trucks.