Loving My Inner Child

 

Flowers.jpg

It’s a perfect morning. Sunny with a balmy breeze that takes me back to days as a child. Like today, it was around the time of my birthday. My fifth birthday to be exact. I was daydreaming while I sat on the metal swing-set in the backyard. Swinging and singing a made-up song. Hair softly blowing in the wind. Behind me, rows of grapes starting to bud. And everywhere I looked my world was a pretty spring green.

At one point, I started thinking about my life and what it might look like when I came to the end of it. Even at five, I often wondered how God would judge me when I met Him face to face. I thought my life might look like a movie. God reviewing every moment of my life while everyone watched every deed, heard every word, and listened to every thought. It would be fair to think that at five I didn’t have much to worry about, but even then I had secrets I didn’t want to be revealed. The fact that God already knew caused me great shame which, unfortunately, was not enough to keep me godly.

On days like today, I think of that little girl and her young life. So much living yet to do; her thoughts, words, and deeds paling in comparison to all those that would follow.

I will turn 56 soon, and when I do I will remember that earnest girl, far too serious for her years. She is the pensive, sensitive, anxious side of me. She is where depression lives. When I weep for the world so cruel at times that my heart breaks, it is through her eyes that I weep. When I look at the beauty that surrounds me I experience it with the awe and wonder of a child.

Throughout my life, I have tried to ignore her, tried to pretend she isn’t a part of me. But for all her sensitivities she will not be denied. And so, I have learned to love and cherish her. The part of me that is the purest; my heart.

Writing 101, Day Five – Be Brief

The third grade classroom was a beehive of activity, as children waited for their teacher, Miss Carruthers, to enter the room. Some children sat talking quietly and others goofed around waiting until the last possible moment to sit down.

Miss Carruthers stood in the doorway, surveying the class when she spotted a note on the floor. A day didn’t go by without a crisis of some sort over lost papers, barrettes, pencil crayons or snacks. Finding it first made life easier later on.

Sad school girlOpening the note, Miss Carruthers walked to Jenny’s desk.

“Jenny, is everything OK?” Miss Carruthers gently asked.

Jenny’s eyes welled up with tears as she looked at Miss Carruthers, “my mom is mad at me.”

Miss Carruthers smiled softly at the sweet, brown-haired child and quietly said, “You dropped this, I think you should read it.”

Jenny reached out, took the note and slowly opened it. Reading it to herself, tears rolling down her face, she turned to Miss Carruthers.

“My mom is sorry, and she loves me!” Jenny smiled as she wiped her tears.

Miss Carruthers patted Jenny on the shoulder and walked to the front of the class.

Another day has begun.

 

When I’m Afraid I’m Losing My Mind

                                   

2 Timothy 1:7

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

New King James Version (NKJV)