Arden built with Wedgits this morning while the older kids worked on their math lessons. His self-imposed goal was to complete each of the cards with photos of increasingly difficult structures. Of course, about two thirds of the way through a "meteor shower" struck and after that is was less about accomplishment than about destruction. That's okay. I don't expect him to have an attention span beyond that of any other six year old.
When a new card was turned over, while he contemplated his first action, he would whisper to himself, "Okay, I can do this. I can do this." Then I tested him. I would gently tease that the next card might be too hard. Brimming with confidence every time: "I can do it." I would have hedged. Maybe. Probably. This amazing, confident, self-assurance isn't something he learned from his mother.
I also have an amazingly, confident, ready-take-on-the-world friend. I'll call her Amy. Right down to her email address, her personality is 100 percent consistent. "Amycando." I laughed out loud when she sent the first email. If I were to do something similar mine would read,
I'm tempted to feel sorry for myself. I'm tempted to think thoughts about God creating a useless person, and choosing a useless Christian. But listening to Arden this morning I thought maybe God just made us different. Different the way an optimist and pessimist are different. Or a spender and a saver. Or someone who is goal-oriented and someone who is people oriented. Left-brain, right-brain. You know, it's who we are and God uses all types. What if some of us are can-do people and some of us are can't-do people? Not that we're actually incapable, just when faced with a new problem or challenging situation, we wilt. Anyone else like that out there?"Briacantdo@mynewemailaddress.com"
And think how differently these two opposite people would read Philippians 4:13, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."