Is this what He sees?

If this wasn't the cutest little sad face, I might not be able to handle all of the crying at my house some days ...
As a general rule, my kiddos are happy little girls, who play well together, are not terribly demanding and are learning to mind their parents and say please and thank you.  But, we have our moments, sometimes several moments, when the crying and fussing and carrying on abounds!  Recently, I had one of those "aha" parent moments when I caught just a glimpse of what God sees in me at times.  For the most part, I am a happy gal, not terribly demanding of God, I'm learning to listen to Him more and be more thankful even when I don't always get what I want.  But ... I wonder if when he looks down at me somedays if he sees a face and attitude like the one Brynn was sporting in the picture above!  The following true story brought me to this reflection ...
Brynn has assumed the role recently of my right hand man babe whenever I am at the stove preparing supper.  At 5:30 pm without fail she is hungry -- hungry is not a pleasant thing to be in our house!  (you'd think my kids were starving by the way they behave at supper time, except for the thigh-rolls and cheeks that give them away - but that's another story)  Anyway ... If there is something brewing on the stove, she assumes (correctly, for the most part) that it is for her.  She is not content to observe or happily sit by my feet while I lovingly prepare a gourmet feast hurridly throw something together! :)  Instead, she stands right next to me, reaching up for me, squaking, crying and shouting "mama" seven hundred and thirty seven times.  One day last week she discovered she could open the oven door.  Knowing she had figured out how to get to the jack-pot, I stood in front of the oven door, preventing her from getting the door open while the casserole was in the oven.  This royally ticked her off.  The typical crying and begging while I'm fixing supper, turned into all-out-fit-pitching.  And I do mean meltdown of epic proportions.  You'd think she was seriously injured or otherwise in jeopardy of serious injury the way she carried on.  I just shook my head, as I told her, "Honey, if you open that door while its hot, you'll burn your little hands."  She, of course, had no idea what I was saying, and continued to fuss.  I tried telling her "owie, hot, no touch" or something to that effect, thinking maybe she'd understand that instead.  Nope ... more fit-pitching, alligator tears, hanging head in defeat, more clinging to the handle on the oven door trying in vain to wip it open. 

Then there was that still small voice ... is this the way God sees me sometimes?  Do I beg and cry and whine and shout my requests to Him, not knowing what it is I am really asking for?  Do I pitch a big fit when I don't get just what I want?  Do I cling to and hang on the proverbial oven door, begging him to let me open it, not knowing that doing so will severely burn my hands ... inflicting pain and suffering for myself and for those around me?  Thank you, sweet Father, for standing in front of me, guarding me from my own selfish desires, knowing what it is that I am really asking for and keeping me from the harm I would so readily bring on myself.  And thank you for babies who fuss, who try my patience somedays, who are growing and developing just like they should, and who have taught me and continue to teach me lessons I would never learn otherwise.  I do so love them ... even when that's the face I look down at.  I can more clearly see that You look at me with that same kind of affection, even when my grumpy face is the one you see.   And, I continue to stand in awe ...