Child’s Play

I’ve been noticing in recent years that children somehow get very attached to me, and it’s not from anything I do in particular. I don’t gush over a child’s accomplishment or their toys or their pencil art. I’m not rude about it, but I just don’t exude the same enthusiasm as most people do. And for whatever particular reason, it seems to work. Just the other night, I ended up having four children simultaneously fighting for my attention with their homemade Wall-E robot, closet space, flexibility and nonsensical grammar.

The amazing thing about the whole ordeal is how at such a young age, you can already see their future insecurities surface. With men, our insecurities lie in our abilities. Boys love wrestling with me as I’m always a willing participant and I’ve become a measuring stick for them to test their strength. (It also helps that I fold easily like a deck of cards.) When a boy hits me and I cry pain, you can see the eyes of little child gleam with pride over his ability to take down a bigger foe. But you can also see his frustration when I decide to put up some resistance.

Girls on the other hand, wish to be praised and seen as beautiful. I remember being over at friend’s house to catch some UT basketball. His two daughters, four and two at the time, decided to take me to their backyard to play. The older went up and down a slide while the younger was on a swing on different sides of the play area. The older would shout, “Look at me!” and proceed down the slide. As soon as I turn my head, the younger would also shout, “No look at me!” and start swinging. And back and forth it goes.

I also realize that I am not so different from these children. I approach my relationship with God in the very same way with my insecurities. I try my very best to wow Him with anything that I can muster from being a “professional” Christian, to making fancy looking newsletters. I mean, can you imagine what God is thinking when I show Him a newsletter? “Oh son, I created… the whole Universe… but that’s nice Photoshop work there.” No way. God marvels at my work that I do out of love for Him and that humbles and dumbfounds me to no end.

I feel that the very best way to explain it is through this old song by Five Iron Frenzy called Dandelions.

In a field of yellow flowers,
Underneath the sun,
Bluest eyes that spark with lightning,
Boy with shoes undone.
He is young, so full of hope,
Reveling in tiny dreams,
Filling up, his arms with flowers,
Right for giving any queen.

Running to her beaming bright,
While cradling his prize.
A flickering of yellow light,
Within his mother’s eyes.
She holds them to her heart,
Keeping them where they’ll be safe,
Clasped within her very marrow,
Dandelions in a vase.

She sees love, where anyone else would see weeds.
All hope is found.
Here is everything he needs.

Fathomless Your endless mercy,
Weight I could not lift.
Where do I fit in this puzzle,
What good are these gifts?
Not a martyr, or a saint,
Scarcely can I struggle through.
All that I have ever wanted,
was to give my best to you.

Lord, search my heart,
Create in me something clean.
You see flowers in these weeds.

Gently lifting hands to heaven,
Softened by the sweetest hush,
A Father sings over His children,
Loving them so very much.
More than words could warrant,
Deeper than the darkest blue,
More than sacrifice could merit,
Lord, I give my heart to You


About Jason

Remote worker. Stats and analysis nerd. Soccer lover. View all posts by Jason

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