The toilet must have some kind of homing device attached to my two year old. At least that is the conclusion I have drawn. He likes the idea of using the commode, just not the kind of idea I would like for him to have.
 It all began one morning during the school year. I was in mine and my husband’s room getting ready to go to school. I happened to be putting make-up on, my foundation in particular.  My son was sitting beside me trying on every shoe in my closet all at the same time, which is not unusual. In the blink of an eye, he had my foundation in his chubby little hand and was letting it spill all over the carpet. I swatted his bottom and sent him to his room to harmlessly play while I cleaned up the mess. After I had cleaned the flesh colored goo out of the carpet as satisfactorily as I could, I went to check on my sweet, innocent child. To my trepidation, I found him carrying an armload of flannel footy pajamas into the bathroom. He was stuffing every one of them in the commode and trying to flush them down. Luckily, they wouldn’t go down the narrow opening despite the swirling water. After this incident we discussed what a potty is used for and I thought we had settled the issue. But as I found out recently, we had not.
 This time, like before, he chose a convenient time for me to deal with the toilet. I had already drank two large bottles of a disgusting, horrendous, nauseating liquid laxative, in preparation for surgery. Being two, he had been especially interested in the potty the past few days, but I wasn’t too worried. I should have been though. He came squishing into the kitchen right about the time the laxative started to work. I could tell from his water-logged shoes and socks that something was really wrong. I went rushing into the bathroom where I found water gushing from the commode and spilling onto the already ankle deep water that was threatening to cover the whole floor of the bathroom. The especially calm person that I am, I ran to the phone frantically and called my Mother, for her to tell me how to fix the toilet and work the plunger. At this point I was nearing hyperventilation!  After turning the water off I looked up to find that he had put the whole roll of toilet paper in the commode and was trying to flush it down. We had a long talk about the potty, toilet paper, and when and how much to put in the potty, but I know I will have the same discussion with him again.
 Now, when the commode is not overflowing with pajamas or water, I see the simple ways my son is growing up to be a little boy and growing out of his days of being a baby. I also see the humor in both instances, although I don’t laugh as hard as SOME people.
 He is the perfect example of a Christian’s walk with God. As a new Christian we are eager to do something for God. We are eager to be involved and help out. But sometimes the situations we get ourselves into backfire and we have to learn to trust in God’s timing and grace to get us through. Sometimes, like my two year old, we overflow the toilet and we have to let God (or “Gi” as my son calls my Mother) help us turn off the water and brig us back to normal. After growing from our experiences we can further grow in our relationship with God. We know not to put in too much toilet paper (or pajamas in one case) and we grow a little wiser in our decisions. But there are always the times we fall and need God to kiss our “ouchies.” And He is always ready to help us get up, dust the dirt from our knees and move on. In Matthew 18, verse 3, Jesus tells His disciples: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”  We are God’s children, so the next time you overflow the potty, fall on your knees and let God kiss your “ouchie.”