We’ve all seen the supermarket battle. The toddler screams for a particular item (usually some item of confectionery, drink or toy). The parent says no. The screaming intensifies, often accompanied by the child flinging itself onto the floor to emphasise the seriousness of its desire. The parent attempts to move the toddler on, but this is now a battle of the wills, and often the parent, embarrassed in front of the disapproving stares of others, gives in and hands over the item. The child, satisfied at having demonstrated its superior negotiating skills, subsides and is transformed from a snivelling banshee to the very picture of serenity and smugness. “I got my own way.”

Sometimes, however, the parent stands firm and the wailing then continues, increasing in ear-splitting volume. In the short term, this outcome is not pleasant for all around, but perhaps in the longer term, a more valuable lesson is learned: getting your own way may not always be the best thing for us.
Israel often behaved like a screaming toddler, seeing the nations around them doing certain things and wanting to follow the same paths, even when God directly told them not to. 1 Samuel 8 records one such incident: their desire to be like other nations and have a visible king to lead them and go out before them and fight their battles (1 Sam 8:19-20) We can see the appeal of this, especially as their immediate prospects did not look particularly hopeful (Samuel’s sons were not cut from the same upright cloth as their father, and perhaps the people feared for the future after Samuel’s death.)
The problem was that in clamouring for an earthly king, the people were effectively rejecting God’s rule as King over them. This was what was distinctive about Israel. God was the one who led them. He had delivered them from impossible situations on numerous occasions: why should they ever presume a human king could do a better job? But the lure of the visible, the pull of the immediate, the desire for conformity all acted like a magnet on their wandering hearts, drawing them towards a short-term answer that apparently seemed so much better than long-term good.
Samuel, under God’s guidance, laid out the facts before them, how a human king would inevitably bring them harm (sin is so pervasive that it colours every institution we invent.) Like a parent reminding a screaming toddler that a snack before mealtime or another Barbie doll is not actually the panacea they believe these things to be, Samuel painted a truthful but stark picture of the downside of human kings (1 Sam 8:13-18). Unsurprisingly, reason did not win the day. (It rarely does.) The tantrumming nation continued to stamp its feet and press on regardless, and God acquiesced with their demands. (1 Sam 8:22)
Sometimes, getting your own way is the worst thing that can happen to you, despite what we may think. Sometimes God’s no can be the most positive thing He ever says to us.
It requires a lot of stamina and wisdom to parent a child through the screaming toddler stage and on to the stubborn teenager stage. My four-year-old granddaughter, coming to terms with her increased abilities, declared yesterday that she was big enough to walk home by herself. I love her growing confidence, but am not yet prepared to trust her ability to navigate busy roads!

This account of Israel’s desire for her own way teaches me things on so many different levels. I see the human desire to throw off God’s authority, to go our own way, to be like what we see all around us. I see our need for conformity, the pressure we feel to look and act in the way that others do around us, our reluctance to stand out from the crowd. I see how hard it is to live differently, to do things God’s way. I see God’s kindness and mercy to us. I see the hurt we cause Him by our sinfulness (God is not impervious to our actions, any more than the parent who feels genuinely for the misery of the child.) Above all, though, I learn the dangers of getting my own way, and therefore see the wisdom in learning to pray ‘Not my will, but Yours be done.’