My new six-year-old son did. Poop in the Burger King playground, that is. We were on Day Three of our parents-to-five-children adventure, and after going to a couple used clothing shops for our two newest arrivals I took the kids to a special treat that we´ve only done one other time — lunch at Burger King and time to play in the big playground inside.
Darwin was on a ´date´ with our eldest daughter that day, so I was with the four youngest ones and everything was going along perfectly. I sat in the playground room, distracted from reading my book as various little people continually stuck their heads out of the big play structure calling my name to look and wave.
And then something strange happened. Jackeline, our new eleven-year-old daughter, came over to me and said plainly, ¨Josue pooped in his pants.¨ I was sort of dumb-struck and could only think to ask, ¨Does this happen frequently?¨ Her response: yes.
I put on my metaphorical ¨momma¨ pants and said, ¨Ok, I´ll take care of this. You just keep playing. Have fun!¨ and then looked down and his big grin and smelly pants and asked myself, ¨What now?¨
The only logical solution seemed to be to walk him to the women´s bathroom (he´s a bit too burly to carry) and try to clean him up in one of the really small stalls. I did so, leaving a sporadic trail of smeary poo from the playplace to the bathroom as the poop continued to drip down his pantsleg and onto the shiny tile floor. Not to mention the little pile of wet poo he left on the site of the crime within the playplace, which I didn´t notice until returning with him from the bathroom.
So anyways, him and I squeeze into one of the two stalls in the women´s bathroom, and after stripping him of his clothes I sit him on the toilet because there was hardly enough room for one person, let along two, to stand. Seeing as his legs were smeared with poop, the act of sitting him on the toilet then transfered — or maybe even multiplied, who knows — a large quantity of the sticky substance onto the priorly squeaky-clean toilet seat. Poop was everywhere!
The whole experience seemed quite surreal, like I was watching in on someone else´s life without getting stressed or grossed out (or vomiting), and I realized in that moment the reality of the ¨unexplainable peace¨ that is available to us through Jesus Christ. I began to laugh out loud in that little Burger King bathroom stall, uncontrollably joyful as I said out loud various times to no one in particular, ¨God is enough! God is sufficient!¨
So many times we think we need God plus something else to make us happy. Maybe God plus our days off or God plus a comfortable income or God plus kids who behave well and don´t poop in the Burger King playground. I realized in that moment that God alone — Who He is, His promises to us, His justice, love and mercy — is all that we need. He is enough. Add or subtract anything else — displeasing circumstances, a restful vacation, a bad night´s sleep, a great relationship — and nothing truly changes. If we cannot find contentment in God through Christ, we cannot find it in anything else.
So there I stood, hunched over the poopy little boy in the Burger King bathroom, laughing like a mom who has done delirious, and declaring for all other bathroom patrons to hear, ¨God is sufficient! He is enough!¨ I think for the first time I actually understood how to be patient — serenely so — in a truly sticky situation, to rest in God´s grace rather than in my own power or agreeable circumstances.
Then a long and somewhat clumsy series of events led us to the car to get out the new clothes we had just bought for him, return to the bathroom, and then walk hand-in-hand back through the restaurant towards the play area as several customers commented out loud on how bad the restaurant smelled. I think all of the restaurant´s janitors were called to the scene, because we passed by more than a couple moppers and disinfecters hard at work to recover the glistening floor that my beautiful son had spoiled. I had to hold in a giggle and resisted the temptation to laugh out loud and say, ¨It was us! My son is the one who pooped on your floor! But God is sufficient!¨
When we got home that evening, Darwin and I were talking and I told him, ¨I bought this little backpack for Josue, because from now on whenever we go out with him we are going to need to take an extra pair of clothes, because anything can happen.¨ He looked at me somewhat confused and I laughed, saying, ¨It´s a long story. But God is enough.¨