I wake up grumpy, having slept through my alarm with no time to curl into my favorite chair and prepare for the day alone with God. I feel tired already. The house is a mess, the kids are hyper, I have too much to do. Doggedly donning my running shoes, I plop the girls into the stroller, walk Malachi to school, and begin the tedious jog down to the river to give the dog—and myself—some exercise. Along the way my mind churns, drawing up the lists for the day. I can almost see the gloomy clouds settling over my spirit.
Meanwhile, in the stroller, Mikayla keeps up the stream of conversation that began as soon as she jumped out of bed and won’t stop till sleep forces her to silence. “Mom, look at those pretty flowers!” “Isn’t that a cool building, Mom?” “Hey Mom, look at that car!”
She laughs at the dogs we pass, comments upon every building, tree, flower, or person her gaze lights upon, and sings made-up songs about our walk. She waves at every car, and the drivers, surprised out of their morning doldrums, smile and wave back.
She has no agenda for her day. She is not worried about the time, about getting enough exercise, about the impossible to-do list. She lives joyfully free in the moment, enjoying the people and things in front of her, making the most of now.
I find myself smiling. My shoulders relax. My stride lengthens. My heart lifts. The thought comes to me that Mikayla is a life-giver. Where did she learn that? I wish I could say from me. But for my three-year old, giving life is effortless, done without thought or intention. She gives life because she is so full of life, so innocent of the worries I burden myself with.
When was the last time I approached my day with the thought of giving life instead of checking off my list?
Once again my child is the teacher, pointing the way to God’s heart. Isn’t this why God gives us children, to remind us?
