July 19, 2017
I used to be journal-er. Not anymore. I complain that I don't have enough time. But this is what I wrote nearly six years ago. As I read it, I wanted to edit it; after all, I'm older now, and self-reflection and learning never ceases, does it? So here I am—or as Walt Whitman called his self-editing process, "Leaves of Grass." Note: I have marked my edits in red.
October 2, 2011
Today, I spent the morning with my nephew Edward who is now twenty months old. He likes to balance his toy cars all over the edges of the family room sofa, making the sofa look as though cars were hanging on to it for dear life—making the improbable, possible. Edward knows that to accomplish his task, he must find the perfect balance—accounting for each car's size, shape, and weight. In this small kingdom of his, he reigns. When he's done, his Mater and Lightning McQueen among the many look as though they're on the verge of teetering off the sofa but they don't. I imagine, the little boy's mind, body, and heart focused on the task—feeling out for when he senses that he's got it just right. Then he runs to me and grabs me by the legs and says, "Look! Look! I did it!" He shines his eyes up at me with his aren't-you-proud-of-me-smile, which involves every muscle of his face. My response is irrepressible. I burst into unbridled cheers! Then I pick him up and kiss him all over. I just want to eat him!
Today, I realized that when all is said and done, this is how I want to come to my Heavenly Father, the Master who gives me talents. Though I know when I cry, my Abba Father will pick me up and comfort me, soothe me and assure me, I don't want Him to pick me up because I'm crying. Nor do I want Him to pick me up because I'm whining about how life is too hard. I don't want Him to pick me up because I want him to buy me this or make that happen. I don't want him to pick me up because I'm complaining about how so-and-so doesn't know how to share or play nicely. No, I want Him to pick me up because I'm full of joy from accomplishing the work at hand—from the joy of knowing that I can do this! I want to grab the attention of my Heavenly Father by running to Him. I want to say, "Look! Look! Look what I've done with the talents you've entrusted me with?" I want to run to God and say, "Aren't you proud of me! I did it! I know how to balance things!" I want to cause Him to beam with cheer over me! I want Him to say, "Well done, good and faithful daughter! Woohoo! Come into my arms! Let's celebrate together!"
|Author: Pastor DoHee|
Email your thoughts