I was going through some boxes and found this picture of 4-year-old me. I’m wearing a dress my mother made and smocked, probably just for picture day. (I hated that dress because “it choked me to death.”)
Do you ever think about little you? What did she like to do? What did she dream of? What was fun? Did she run fast, arms and legs flailing about? Did she sit and draw pictures in the dirt? Did she laugh loudly at silly sounds?
Little Mandee didn’t care if her hair was fixed or if she tilted her head at the perfect angle for a photo. She didn’t care if she was squinting when the photographer’s camera clicked. She probably ran around the playground full of giggles and sweat moments before this image was captured.
When do we stop running? When do we slow to a walk everywhere we go? I remember having to tell my first graders to stop running on a regular basis. Little kids run everywhere – across the classroom to get some crayons, all over the playground at recess, down the hall to the music room – at what moment does that stop? I may get a burst of zeal from time to time, but I can’t think of anything I actually run to.
When are our dreams quieted? I still dream, but not like 4 year old me. She thought she would be a gardener, art teacher, and ballerina when she grew up. She thought she’d live in a purple house in the middle of a meadow full of flowers. She didn’t just hope, she really believed it was her future.
When we do stop truly believing? I want to capture that faith of that little girl again. I want to truly believe as she did.
Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14
That child-like faith is what we are called to! Let’s try to get that back. What do you want to tell little you? Even more, what would little you tell big you now?
