Three-year-olds get a bad rap sometimes. Granted, for good reason, they are often dramatic, defiant, loud, and unpredictable. However, as I reflected on some of the traits of my little girl, I started to flip my perspective and consider all the positive aspects of three. I thought of the times that I have watched her in awe and I began to wonder what my life would be like if I took on some of the positive characteristics of my three-year-old daughter.
Recently, my family navigated a bout of COVID infections which necessitated the cancellation of some highly anticipated plans. As I worked to overcome my disappointment, I was reminded of All That Still Is.
The black dot analogy connects to many of my life experiences. Specifically, the reality that parents and kids often remember experiences differently. It seems that moms are often harder on ourselves than our kids are on us. It makes me wonder, are kids somehow able to keep their focus on the whole page while parents struggle to see beyond the dot?
Parenting can be so brutal, like a child asserting their independence, harshly declaring “I don’t want to snuggle and read with you.” Or so beautiful, like a child expressing their appreciation through a simple “I love you.” It’s a bittersweet journey.
I thought to myself, this game stinks. I literally looked all over the house for hidden toys, aided solely on random, vague clues from a four year old, was laughed at, forgotten about, and then after finally finding the lost toy…nothing. Later, as I reflected on the game, I was struck by some of the similarities the game had to the fears I was trying to articulate about my faith journey. Especially recently, as I’ve faced several major life transitions, I have been a little bit stuck in fear and questions over what is supposed to happen next.
When I was a teenager, I couldn’t wait to grow up, do all the things, know all the answers, and finally reach a point where I had figured it all out.
For Christians to suggest that doubt prevents success or God’s will from being fulfilled would imply that doubt doesn’t coexist with faith, or that somehow our human doubt is stronger than our God. I disagree. I like to think that faith, even faith with doubt, is much more about connecting with God, being the hands and feet of Jesus, and letting our lights shine to those around us.
Have you ever noticed how the tiniest of interactions, even those with a total stranger, can impact your entire day?
When I hear procrastination described as simply “delaying” a necessary task, it implies a sense of calm, as if the decision was somehow a logical choice to simply complete a task later. However, how I experience procrastination is less of a calm, logical choice and is definitely more of a chaotic jumble of responsibilities careening around my mind in a twisted path, all requiring immediate action. Of course, procrastination takes place in a headspace where logic is not involved and instead meaningless tasks take precedence over whatever responsibility I am desperately avoiding.
Love is so complex. It includes feelings, emotions, choices, actions, words, and paradox. SO MUCH paradox.