Holding this little chick in her little hand this morning, this little girl said, “When I hold them, I feel so much aliveness.”
On a day that felt brutally like any other, filled simultaneously with the tragic horrors of our current world and the monotonies of cleaning and breakfast/lunch/dinner. On a day that was gray when I wanted sun. On a day when I looked outside and realized my yard was actually a rowdy park for overgrown dandelions and Canadian thistle. On a day when I’m not moving on to a new place when everyone else around me seems to be doing just that. On a day when I moped around, mop in hand, and felt sorry for myself because who am I and what am I actually doing with my time on this side of eternity?
On a day like that, I needed to hear those words from my unpretentious 5-year old more than I needed water or air.
Because, on days like today, my habit is to forget everything worth remembering.
Things like the importance of holding this day in my hand and saying “I feel so much aliveness in it!”
When she said those words, she meant: I feel their potential and their possibility and their promise. I feel the importance of being right here, right now, witnessing this.
She is so wise. And for all my attempts to train her “in the way she should go”, I am ever humbled when she comes along side me and redirects my wayward path back to Truth, back to a narrow way filled with Light.
“At that time Jesus declared, ‘I praise You, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because You have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was well-pleasing in Your sight.'” Matthew 11:25-26