We were on a simple, evening drive and my three youngest had turned holding a blanket we would need at our destination into a thrilling game of be-prepared-to-block-the-sun-when-it-shines-into-our-faces. You would have thought it was the most exciting activity they had ever taken part in, judging by the shrieks and laughter it produced.
My husband and I exchanged amused smiles. "A child's life is so exciting," I commented quietly.
That incident was weeks ago but it's returned to my mind often. Here's why -- what if 'becoming as little children' means living like that?
Little children bounce; they sparkle, have you noticed? Jerking a blanket over your face every time the sun peaks through the trees is thrilling as you drive along on a summer evening! To big people it's an annoying bother - the sun in your eyes and a visor that doesn't provide enough shade. At what point, exactly, do we lose the sparkle, I wonder? The bounce? What changes when little people get big?
Us big people, we know a lot, don't we? We've known a lot more pain, a lot more heartache; we've shed a lot more tears. As the years stack up, so do the losses. We've said more goodbyes, let go of more dreams, picked up more broken pieces. With the knowing comes a little less bounce, a little less sparkle, a little less child-like-ness. And sometimes, if we're not careful, the pain of this world looms bigger than the God who promises redemption.
"How is it that the sun keeps shining in times of devastating loss? Or that the waves roll in, robust as ever, and tea kettles whistle, and people go to work? Maybe God is saying that death <loss> is real but so is life, and even in the most black and empty days of death, life keeps nosing in, reminding. He is the resurrection and the life. He will win." ~Dorcas Smucker
Lately I've found myself grieving so much loss and pain -- my own, my friend's, my family member's. Sometimes the pain of life feels crushing and there is healing in tears and grief. But the bounce and sparkle of a child keep coming back to my mind's eye; the wonder and joy found in simple blankets and sun in the eyes. What good is the resurrection and the life if I live my days under the cloud of loss and pain? If the theme of God's story is redemption, shouldn't the bounce and sparkle of a child line my clouds?
The brokenness of this world is reality; just because we are His doesn't erase the effects of sin and death in our lives. But let's not forget to pause often and view life through the eyes of a child. There is wonder in the sunset, joy in service, sparkle in a hug, bounce in shared laughter, hilarity in a blanket and the sun; don't miss it.
No matter what losses we face, no matter how devastating our road, He is the resurrection and the life.
He will win.
1 comment:
Bethany, I know what you mean. Just today, my childhood friend texted me that her nephew Johnny had passed of a massive heart attack. He was only 46 yrs old. I remember him as a child growing up.
I recently found out through the internet(sometimes the internet can be cruel) that Vera Overholt whose family publish the Christian Hymnary passed away in July. I had lost contact with her and planned to contact her but with moving I never did.
Then a few months ago I discovered( via the internet) that my matron of honor passed away last year. Last week I almost lost my husband in a car accident. All this reminds just how precious life is and that God can call us home at anytime.
And you are right, He is the resurrection and the life and will win. Hallelujah!
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