There they were: my fuzzy, fleecey, navy and periwinkle, pin-striped pajamas. Submerged. Drenched. Drowned.

I looked down at him.

He looked up at me.

We exchanged serious, straight-faced thoughts.

And then I delivered my soggy pjs from the potty. And while I did, there was only one thing I could think: Thank you, Lord, that he doesn’t know how to flush.

In moments like these, finding any blessing to count is critical. But truth be told, he’s not the first of my kids to do it. His older sister once offered me a refreshing drink drawn from the pristine porcelain waters. Thank God I put all the pieces together before taking a swig.

Seems that all my kids, at one point or another, found the toilet to be an oasis overflowing with entertainment and delight. While I’ve not been able to understand this ghastly preoccupation before, it suddenly dawned on me: the toilet’s at eye-level. So the real question is, why wouldn’t a child be attracted to a ginormous bowl of water that’s just his height?

Well, just because you’re attracted to something—and you can reach it—doesn’t mean it’s good for you. That’s why Mom and Dad watch vigilantly over potty waters to quickly divert little fingers from dipping and dabbling in…sewage. Kids don’t know any better until they’re taught: toilets are not really something you want to touch, let alone play in.

Strangely, our water-side lessons have been teaching me something too—about pursuing my own ”eye-level pleasures.” This Scripture verse came to mind:

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things (Colossians 3:1-2).

The ”eye-level pleasures” I encounter also seem so…delightful. From my “height” on the earth, as a child of God’s, these pleasures seem so desirable and reachable. Maybe it’s… food or clothes or goals or accomplishments I’m focused on–things that aren’t bad, so long as they keep their proper places and purposes. When I become consumed with eye-level pleasures—the things of this world—I risk forfeiting the riches of the ”things above.”

That’s a risk I’m not willing to take. So I’m looking to set my mind on things far above what this world has to offer. I’m on my way up—to growing up in Christ Jesus. And as I do, I’m confident I’ll find what I’m looking for—true satisfaction—in Him.

I, for one, am very thankful for toilets. I just don’t want to be caught playing in them.