mother may i

When I was a little kid, I used to love playing games with the neighborhood kids. Red Rover, Capture the Flag, Statue, Kick the Can, Ghost in the Graveyard… for each of these games, we’d gather together in the street and play as long as our parents allowed us. But as much as I loved each of these games, there was one game in particular I hated: Mother May I.

While games like Red Rover or Statue often showed signs of favoritism, nothing showed favoritism and unfair play like Mother May I. While in some games kids got picked more often than others, Mother May I worked a little differently. Winning the game depended on one thing – the good graces of the person playing “Mother.”

For those of you unfamiliar with the game of Mother May I, here are the basics so that you can get an idea of what this game is like. There is one person nominated to play “Mother” who stands at one end of the “field.” Typically, our field was a driveway, and the person playing “Mother” would stand at the top of the driveway. The rest of the players then stand across the playing field from Mother. One by one, each player asks the “Mother” if they may go a certain distance in a particular fashion. For instance, if it were my turn, I might say, “Mother may I please take 3 leap frog jumps towards you” or “Mother may I please take 10 baby steps towards you.” It is at this point the “Mother” determines whether or not she will grant you your request. This can be tricky because if you ask for too big of a distance, you may not get it and may even be required to go backwards. But, if you continually ask for small distances, you’ll never make it across. And if you’re not in good standing with “Mother” (aka – you’re not the coolest kid in the bunch) you’re pretty much screwed.

I hated this game because during my childhood, I was always younger than the rest of my friends. Therefore, they would often take advantage of the fact that I was young and more naïve, and I never really got much of a chance to “succeed” in such games. And in games such as Mother May I, my winning the game rested on whether or not my friends wanted to see me win – something that was a rare occurence. I had great friends. Really.

For whatever reason, I thought about the game Mother May I the other day. Be it that it’s summer or that I work with kids and am constantly around children’s games, I couldn’t help but reminisce about the games I played as a kid. However, it wasn’t until I got to my memories of Mother May I that I cringed.

I began to think about the concept of Mother May I, and for whatever reason, a connection began to form in my head. Sometimes I feel as though I treat life like a game of Mother May I, with God functioning as “Mother.” Track with me if you will…

How often in life do I stand on one edge of the field with God on the other and ask “God, may I…” and fill in the blank. “God, may I please have this job?” “God, may I please have this new car?” “God, may I please have this dating relationship?” “God, may I please have no more pain in my life?” I think sometimes, in life, I act the same way I used to act during those games of Mother May I. I am afraid to ask for something seemingly too big, but don’t want to get left behind by asking for things too small. I ask for 3 leap frog jumps because I’m too afraid to ask for 10. I take 5 baby steps when the person next to me seems to get 50. And I think too often, I feel like I did during those childhood games of Mother May I – that my happiness, my success in life, depends on whether or not I’m in God’s good graces and whether or not he “feels” like giving me my requests.

I am TOTALLY frustrated by this realization. I’ve put God into a game of “Mother May I.”

It’s so easy for me to look around, seeing where other people are going and what other people are doing, and ask God, “Why did you only grant me so many steps?” There are so many things I want to see, so many things I want to do, and so many things I want to be, and I feel as though God is granting those things to everyone but but me - that somehow, I'm not in his "favor" to win. So often, I resent God for putting me through the game so slowly, and often times complain about other’s “victories.”

However, I came realize that God is giving me the right amount of steps for each day. Trust me, this is a daily realization and it's usually fought tooth and nail. So often, I want my "steps" to be more than they are. So often, I find myself wishing I was somewhere else in life. But I've come to understand that God has a different "pace" for everyone. I have no problem understanding we are all designed differently, so why wouldn't that include how we move through life? There will always be people in front of me, and always people behind me… Maybe I'm exactly where I need to be.

Now, if only I could learn to stop asking about how to move and start enjoying the movement… even if it’s only baby steps at a time.

(photo taken from www.stamfordjcc.org)