It was about a 3 year old little boy who decided that he was hot stuff and could use the bathroom all by himself one day. He went in, locked the door, took care of business, and went to the door to go back to play...but couldn't get the door unlocked. The little boy panicked and began screaming and banging on the door. His mother ran up the stairs and kept asking him if he was ok. She was trying to determine if had fallen and gotten hurt, or if he was just scared. The boy's father had run down the stairs to the garage to get the ladder. He put it on the side of the house, pried open the bathroom window, hopped in, and walked across the room to unlock the door. The little boy immediately stopped crying and ran off to play.
I giggled when I heard my pastor telling the story, but then I remembered a similar thing happened to me. Unfortunately, I was much older than three; which makes my story far more embarrassing. But for the sake of making a point, I decided to share.
We were at Olive Garden with our family and I went to the restroom while my parents were taking care of the check. Just like the little boy, I took care of business and went to unlock the door but absolutely could not figure it out. To lock the door in this particular stall you had to turn it horizontal rather than vertical, and you had to pull the door towards you instead of pushing it. I'm not sure what happened in my little *cough cough ten cough cough* year old brain, but I lost my mind for a minute. I fidgeted with the lock a few times, I jiggled the handle, and I remember pushing and pulling on the door to no avail. I can totally empathize with the little boy. It was scary. I know it was irrational, but I was terrified. I started pounding on the bathroom stall and yelling for my mom. I was getting claustrophobic, and I was super worried about what would have to happen to get the door open.
"Would I have to pay for it if it got kicked down? Would people make fun of me for getting stuck in an Olive Garden bathroom? What it they can't get me out for several hours? What if my parents forget I'm in here? What if I have to stay here and they have to shove alfredo noodles through the little crack to keep me alive so I don't starve to death?" Ok, maybe not that last one...but you get the idea.
Picture this for a minute...
This. This is my 5th grade yearbook picture. Can you imagine this awkward 10 year old girl knocking on the door of a stall at an Olive Garden? Screaming and yelling for help in a moment of panic because for whatever reason she couldn't open the stall door...it's okay. You can laugh. I definitely did.
About a minute into my freaking-out fest, my mother came into the bathroom and talked me down off my ledge of Total Toilet Terror. About thirty seconds later I calmly opened the door, apologized to the lady who had been in the stall next to me, washed my hands, and walked to the car. I don't even think we mentioned what had happened to dad or brother. I was probably only in the bathroom for seven or eight minutes total, but it felt like forever.
The purpose of my pastor telling the story of the little boy in his sermon today was to make a point that sometimes God acts like the earthly father in that story. Sometimes He hears us crying out and He runs in to open the door. Other times He climbs into that room with us and tells us to just sit with Him. When one considers my similar situation, I think an additional point can be made.
Let's be real: If you're in a public bathroom and you hear a kid completely losing her wits over being "trapped" in the bathroom stall adjacent to yours; you would definitely judge her a little bit. At the very least, you would go home and call your mother or your BFF and laugh about how silly the girl was. The parents in the story didn't laugh at the little boy or make fun of him. They were relieved that he was no longer upset. My mother in this story has never made fun of me for being stuck in the bathroom either. She gave me a hug when we got home and told me that she would never leave me stuck anywhere. She may have also said something about how I should know that by now. I was about *cough cough ten cough cough* years old after all. She had never left me anywhere, why would she leave me trapped in a toilet stall of all places?
God does the same thing. He takes our irrational fears, but doesn't judge us for them. He allows us space to freak out if we choose to, but He's right there when we cry out to Him. He's there to comfort us after we get upset, and He whispers "Don't you know I'm not ever going to leave you?"
Don't you know I'm not ever going to leave you?
Melissa, I'm not ever going to leave you.
___(insert your name here)___, I'm not ever going to leave you.
^That's powerful stuff.
I can honestly say that I haven't been stuck in any other physical bathrooms or bathroom stalls other than that one time in Olive Garden. Thank Goodness. But I've been in some pretty dark places. I've been in places where I was up late night crying and asking God to get me out of situations and circumstances I was going through. I think we all have, and that's ok. Maybe he came in and opened the door, or maybe He just held us for a little while until we calmed down and told us how to open the door on our own. Regardless, He took care of us. It may seem like our circumstances last forever. We may feel like the walls are closing in on us and there's no way we can possibly survive what's going on around us, but He remains our constant during turmoil.
For that, I am thankful.
