Dibs

I decided to drag myself out of the house yesterday, and pulled my family along with me. I’d been hearing about the movie, Despicable Me, and a lot of people had been saying some good things about it. So, despite the fact that it’s an animated movie and my family consists of 3 grown men and me, I was able to lure them out from their t.v. and video game haze.

We were first in line and the moment the theater was clean and the doors opened, my oldest son headed inside and straight for the 14th row, middle seat, eyeing the screen first to make sure his aim was right. He sat down, I sat next to him, then my husband, and then our other son.

We had plenty of time to discuss snack selections. In all my movie-going years, I’d never had Dippin’ Dots before and I decided to take the plunge. So my husband and the oldest headed back down to retrieve the snacks. When they came back up the oldest had a thing of Dibs. He loves his ice cream. If we’d been at home he would have had a big glass of milk to go with it.

So we sat there watching Despicable Me, the youngest and me with our delicious Cookie Dough Dippin’ Dots, my husband with his movie theater popcorn, and the oldest with his Dibs. We laughed and laughed at the silliness on the screen. The laughing felt good and almost made me forget that I’d been feeling as though I could identify with the movie’s name. The enemy of God and of His children had been hard at work aiming those fiery arrows and getting some pretty direct hits, and I’d been weary from the combat.

I finished my Dippin’ Dots and shoved the empty container into the cup holder next to me. We laughed some more. And suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, without a word, my son handed me a single Dib. It was one of the nicest things anyone had done for me in a while.  It was made even more special knowing that my son guards his ice cream with the tenaciousness of a Rottweiler. I took it, without a word, smiled, and ate it. It was the best tasting Dib I’d ever had.

I think of the irony of it now. The enemy had been calling “dibs” on my heart and mind for weeks, making me feel useless and unloved. And with one symbolic “Dib,” one simple but kind gesture, God reminded me that I am loved and that He has called dibs on my soul and I will never belong to another.

“But now so says Jehovah who created you, O Jacob, and He who formed you, O Israel; Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; you are Mine.” (Isaiah 43:1)