” It is no small thing
when they, who are so fresh from God,
I have always loved children. My own, other people’s, familiar, strangers, it doesn’t matter. I see a child and I love him or her, effortlessly. This does not make me special. This makes me grateful that I have been given the opportunity to love some rather amazing children throughout my life.
In the spirit of noticing the gifts in every moment, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how my children are no longer children. This is new territory for me. I’ve been a mother for 30 years, and it’s only been the past few that I haven’t had young children running around the house. I find I really miss that.
So I smile at all the kids in the grocery store and exclaim over the cool toys they are holding or the light-up shoes they are kicking in furious tantrum (which almost always stops them mid-fit, much to the relief of their parent) or tell them how epic it is that they are being so helpful to Mama while she shops and how lucky that mama is to have such a great kid. Yeah, I’m a total dork but at 47 I have not only come to accept my dorkiness but to embrace it. It’s part of my irresistible charm. At least that is what I tell myself.
I will always love those who are so fresh from Heaven, whether or not they carry my blood in their veins. So fresh from Heaven, they must still carry a bit of gold-dust in their hair, and it’s lovely glinting when the sun catches it just right.
You never know what these angelic creatures will say or do. Once when Trevor was two, he prayed, “Dear God, thank you for…five, six, nine.” I’m pretty sure God smiled. I did, too. My little prayer warrior is now nearing twenty and as I type is playing a screaming guitar solo and melting all our faces off from the rehearsal room. Now he prays and leads worship for hundreds at a time, still fresh from Heaven and delighted to lead others to the throne in praise.