It’s stuck; it won’t move. “Like seriously Brain?”
I imagined my dopey cerebrum responding with glee; giggling toothlessly and turning its squishy face up at my misfortune.
“Yeah… like seriously.” It smirked.
Three… two… one, go! My frizzled teacher cried.
“Brain, you’ve got to move. Now!” I cried.
It refused, grabbed a package of ice and proceeded to stick it on the most sensitive portion of my corpus callosum. Thanks to its frozen state, the nasty left wasn’t connecting with the impervious right. Thanks. The “failure” of a fresh D was going to hurt.
Sticking the washable marker to the laminated surface I groaned, “One more awful grade and my career as a student is over, OVER.”
I glared at the white surface. Brain smirked at me. “Well, what’s the answer?” It sneered.
I scowled, “I don’t know; but you do. We’ve been practicing multiplication for hours!”
“Hmmm. You should know what it is.”
“One plus your Mom equals I refuse to touch anything with a multiplication table on it ever again. We’re done Brain.” The minute long timing sounded as I slammed the pen into the white. Great.
The Grand Point: I’ve never been one of those girls who gets math; it’s never been my forte. I hated the squiggles, divots and “nonsensical” dots. English has always been what I loved. Since entering into my awkward teen-ship years I have found great solace in being the weird kid who would sit at the back of the classroom and write about strange things. Flying lion-head fish, weird women with “hair long enough to wrap around earth five times” and buck-toothed dancing dinosaurs. If you asked me to I would write it. That’s what brought me the greatest joy. It didn’t even matter to me that I was labeled as “that kid.”
That being said, the equation scene never interested me much because it never made sense to me.
Here’s the punch line: For a long time I tried approaching my relationship with God in the mechanical and unnatural way that I dealt with math. I would try everything in my power to try to everything right. If I didn’t, well… He wouldn’t want to be around me anyway so I’m skipping my time with Him. Skipping some math classes gave me a certain peace of mind, why wouldn’t it be the same with Yahweh?
Well, I need to tell you: nurturing a relationship with God is not about solving His impossible math equation.
It is welcoming a relationship with a Father who is so in love with you. So in love! I have just discovered, that He doesn’t care what I do or don’t do. I am His daughter! I am loved by Him no matter how well I did on that test. No matter how well I write this article… no matter what!
We are very loved/absolutely adored by the Creator of impossible math questions and giver of all good things. I choose to stop asking my snarky Brain for what I need to know.
Father, would You please provide the answers?