It was 4:30am; Abel was awake, and therefore, I was awake. He wasn’t hungry: he was just fussy-hey-I-don’t-sleep-your-hours-woman-come-entertain-me awake. To let me know, oh so subtly of course, that he was aware of the goings on (or lack thereof), he would grunt. And sigh. And flop. And wriggle. In return, I would grunt, and sigh, and flop, and wriggle as I kept popping his pacifier back into his mouth. He was doing it out of hope; I was doing it out of annoyance and desperation. As I started to get really mad (seeing as how rational one is at 4:30am), I found myself muttering things about “why won’t you sleep?” and “this pacifier should make you happy” and “you’ll regret this when you’re a teenager.”
But before I got too mad and wound up, I started to laugh. Because a thought crossed my mind: if an alien was watching me right now, who would they think was in control? And who would they think was the sane one? Somehow I doubt I would be the answer to either of those questions.
The reason I thought of this is because I was listening to a Mark Driscoll podcast (no mention about male/female dominance/subservience stuff to get riled up about – phew), and he posed the question: if aliens were watching us, who would they think was in charge – dogs or dog owners? Dogs walk out in front of their owners. Their owners pick up their poo and carry it around on a walk. And the dogs get to stay home all day while the owners go out and work to keep up the home. Being a dog owner, I had to say: ouch.
The reason Mark brought this up was in the context of worship: do we worship creation or the Creator? Aliens might think that we worship dogs as evidenced by our actions. Some people do take pet ownership to unhealthy levels: there is a fine line between worshiping the creation and being a caretaker as an act of worshiping the Creator.
Same thing goes for parenting. I can worship my child: put all my resources, money, time, energy into this person. Or I can recognize that I can be the best caretaker/facilitator/host while on this mortal coil out of love, adoration, worship of the child’s Creator. A fine line, indeed.
Abel finally fell back asleep, and I did as well. But I couldn’t help thinking that if aliens were ever watching, they would be thinking that humans must get stupider and more subservient as they get bigger: with one tiny “thooey” of the pacifier, and he had me up in a heartbeat. Why would a little person actually *want* to have plastic in their mouth when they could have personal interaction? And what better way to get constant interaction than to use the plastic object as a projectile? Over . . . and over . . . and over?