when I grow up ...
Today when I was out for lunch I was driving on a major road here in town. The sun was shining, the wind was blowing through my hair, and I was singing (and ok, yes, DANCING) along to Brad Paisley. I looked to my right and saw a pudgy face in the window of the car next to me. The pudgy face was completely governed by a one-tooth smile. I smiled at the cute little guy, whose hair was sticking out in several different directions. There was traffic, so we were beside each other for a couple minutes. Brad was singing about young un's running through sprinklers, I was happy, and the cutest little baby in the world was in the car beside me. If I stopped singing and moving, the little dude stopped smiling, so I kept on smiling and bouncing, and he was a happy lil' guy. Apparently he was making noise or doing something to draw the attention of the woman sitting beside him in the backseat, because all of a sudden there was a very proper-looking lady glaring at me. I am not exaggerating -- she looked upset that I was happy and she was in the backseat of a car with the windows rolled securely up and most assuredly either classical music or the afternoon news softly seeping from the speakers, not quite lough enough to hear. No matter, my mood was unshakeable, and the little munchkin was still smiling, so I kept on. She promptly said his name or tugged at his ear or something, because he turned his head to look at her, and then the rhythm of traffic changed and I lost my buddy.Kids seem to have it right -- they smile for NO REASON. We "grown-ups" seem to have lost something as the years have passed. We have lost the ability to giggle and cry at a moment's notice. On beautiful days we roll up the windows and try our best to look important and distinguished and instead we just end up looking stuffy and boring. I guess what I'm hoping is that maybe my little friend today saw something in me that I want to be there more and more: an energy and joy in simply being alive. I know it's not exactly what Jesus is talking about in Matthew 18, but I can't help but wonder if part of the idea of "becoming as little children" is having that joy and light, carefree spirit within us. Some may say that an extreme in this direction would equal irresponsibility. I say exactly the opposite -- to choose to become like a little child is an incredibly responsible thing to do. What did we want to do when we were kids? We wanted to grow up. Foolish souls that we were, we couldn't wait to get older and be out on our own, have a job, and someday have a family. Many of us probably missed out on the true joy of simply being a child. Now we are at a point in our lives where we can CHOOSE to have a child-like demeanor, faith, joy, hope, and expectant heart. We can choose to be surprised by sunrises and let our eyes grow large at the wonder of a butterfly fluttering about around our heads. I never want to lose that -- that wonder and amazement and awe and joy. I want to re-learn how to smile simply because the sun is shining on my face, or to laugh at a goofy person bopping around in the car next to me. I never, ever want to lose that.
The transition to the rest of my lunch hour is not an easy one to make, but it served to solidify those desires I just described. I went to the grocery store and ended up in line behind a girl who couldn't have been older than 14. She was looking around her nervously as she waited for the cashier to get to her order. Her small hands almost looked like they were shaking as they clutched a crumpled ten dollar bill. I looked at what she was buying and instantly my heart hurt. This pretty little girl wasn't buying a pack of gum, or a new barrette for her hair ... she was buying a pregnancy test. I wanted to grab her and hug her and somehow take care of her. I did make eye contact with her, and I tried to speak to her through my smile. I was hoping I would be able to catch her on my way out of the store (though I'm not sure what I would have done or said if I had), but she vanished from sight as soon as she got her change from the cashier.
What did we want to do when we were kids? We wanted to grow up. Many of us probably missed out on the true joy of simply being a child. How I wish we could somehow get and give those lost moments back ... but I know we can't. It still hurts to think about that girl and what she must be going through even in this moment. But even more so, it makes me want to make that choice to become like a child ... I wish I had been living that out more at the store -- a child probably would have hugged her and squeezed her and not worried about the right thing to say.
I don't have a good ending. There is strength in contrast ... I left for lunch to go get some groceries -- I had no idea of what God would teach me through a joyful, pudgy-faced little boy and a distraught, beautiful young lady. A few posts ago, I mentioned that a big word with me lately has been "expectant" ... I move forward into the rest of the day, expecting to be taught and challenged in even more ways.
1 Comments:
What a great real life parable. a couple of your lines stuck out to me. When you talk about babies smiling for no reason - and that being admirable - I think that you are really on to something. I might be neurotic; but I know that I think about the look on my face pretty often, and I know I have decided not to smile for "no reason" before and really hadn't given it much thought until now about the "why"...but it makes sense that each time I do I lose innocence. And I think losing innocence is usually done to become numb to some great force we encounter like whims, emotions, and the serendipitous moments that God stages all around us.
I suppose that it is easier to defend a frown than a smile; and easier to maintain as well - so I guess sometimes I skip the whole thing and just aim at neutral. Neutral and numb. But as you say there is strength in contrast. By extension there must weakness in numb neutrality.
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