Tip of My Iceberg

I’d spent some fun time with a dear friend and her family when we all realized we each needed to head out for our next appointments.

While dad and the older sister were out finding the necessary facilities, I walked to the car with mom and their youngest. When the car was opened, Abigail immediately jumped into the front seat, strapped herself into the driver’s seat, put on her dad’s glasses, and looked ready to take off.

If only her feet hit the pedals.

“Do you always drive, or do you let your big sister drive sometimes?” I inquired.

She laughed at me as if I should know she couldn’t drive a car. Silly me.

“Do you pretend drive?” She nodded vigorously. Obviously, her parents have taught her well. Four-year-olds shouldn’t be driving cars.

She was, however, so tickled with her position in the driver’s seat, a place of authority and power, that I had to comment on the excellence of her preparation for hitting the road.

I could imagine a taller version of Abigail in twelve years, sitting with confidence behind the steering wheel, proudly driving down the road as her parents watched with baited breath.

All parents watch with baited breath.

It’s so much easier to pretend to be an adult than to be one. What we yearn for when we’re younger becomes heavy responsibility when we get older. What seems fun and exciting from afar often registers as annoying and inconvenient when we have to do it. When I first got my driver’s license, I was thrilled to have any opportunity to do errands for Mom, picking up groceries or getting clothes from the cleaners.

That was short-lived enjoyment.

Now I drive twenty miles one way to work through early morning traffic, and I cringe every time I get in the car. It makes me yearn for the time when I wasn’t old enough to drive and someone else would have to take me places.

When we’re young, we’re anxious to grow up and do what big people do. Having a job sounded so much more fun than going to school. Cooking my own food sounded so much more tempting than eating what Mom fixed. Going to bed as late as I wanted to sounded so much better than being forced to go to bed early.

Being an adult and acting responsibly costs us. Acknowledging and owning the consequences our choices cause can be challenging, especially when our decisions aren’t the best.

We live in a world where people are more likely to refuse to take responsibility for their choices because they don’t want the inconvenience. It’s easier to blame others for our problems.

The Bible speaks to that:

“When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things.” 1 Corinthians 13:11

What are childish things? Believing whatever anyone tells you because they’re your friends. Pouting because you didn’t get your way. Denying you did something when everyone saw you do it. Being self-absorbed and acting like you’re the center of the universe. Dodging responsibilities because you don’t want to be responsible.

There’s a time when we should willingly receive help from others because the burden we face is too great; there’s a time we should shoulder our own responsibilities.

“Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ. If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important. Pay careful attention to your own work, for then you will get the satisfaction of a job well done and you won’t need to compare yourself to anyone else. For we are each responsible for our own conduct.” Galatians 6:2-5

There are times when we’re truly needy of the help of others and times when we need to be truly adult and dependable.

Discerning the difference is a sign of maturity.

Abigail is wise enough to know she isn’t ready to drive a car, but pretending is fun.

Being an adult requires a good deal more than pretend.

It requires character.