She excitedly points out every balloon she sees.
Of course she does, we scoff. She’s 17 months old. It’s child’s play.
But is it? She lives with such joy. Such pleasure. Such whimsy. She notices the little gifts in ordinary moments – a balloon dangling about the meat counter at the grocery store – that tell her the ordinary is really extraordinary, expecting something wonderful and noticing even when it is small.
She shrieks with laughter each and every time I pretend I can’t see her standing behind me and act surprised when she jumps on my back.
Of course she does, we scoff. She’s a little girl. It’s child’s play.
But is it? She lives with such delight. Looking for the surprise in every moment. Soaking every second of life in – neither stuck in the past nor imagining the future – but loving the moment she is in. Savoring it like a juicy red strawberry, warmed in the summer sun and eaten eyes closed so you can really taste it.
She hugs our little pup LeLe each and every morning, first thing when she wakes up. And when we come home from errands, she straight-away runs to plant a kiss on the dog’s soft black head.
Of course she does, we scoff. She’s a toddler. It’s child’s play.
But is it? She lives with such a big love. Abandoned. Free. Giving it away at the grocery store with a hearty “Hi,” a big wave, and blown kisses for whoever looks her way… no matter if they look “right,” put her first, or could get her ahead in life.
It’s child’s play, we say… But isn’t it more accurately God’s play?
Faith like a child… I’m starting to understand that doesn’t just mean blindly believing that the impossible is possible. It means delighting in the daily gifts our Father gives each of us, trusting that He is sufficient for our daily bread, and loving fiercely and freely with no expectation of return.
I have much to learn from this child’s play.