Sometimes it's the little things that bring out the most tender and powerful acts of worship in me. I was the serious type of child growing up, often found with my nose in a book. I was quiet, shy and unfortunately, anxious. I didn't like recess that much and remember preferring to stay inside and write on the chalkboard. I enjoyed parties, but not the games. While I had dolls, the faze was quick. I don't recall being goofy or silly or even watching that many cartoons. I was a responsible thinker, feeler, and fixer. Old, but in a child's body.
A few years ago, following a difficult time, this little girl emerged in me that was somehow different than the girl of long ago. This was another aspect of that inner-child we all have. You know, the child who bruises easily, responds hastily, over reacts, recoils in fear, and has the biggest of hearts. We all have that little him or her - the best and worst of us in little form with big influence. That tender piece inside. The one who often needs holding, healing, and to know the truth. Because, little people often interpret things, especially painful things, as meaning something is wrong with them. That child is precious to God. That child has been adopted by the Father into all that He encompasses. Lavish red carpets unfold for these little ones and their vulnerability is safely held close to His heart. It's at this place where His whispered truths allow the greatest kind of healing. It's the kind where the little one is able to be set down and run to the others to play with abandon, looking over from time to time to smile and wave. She knows who she is. She KNOWS her Daddy. Aaaahhh...Jesus is so good.
What emerged in me a few years ago was something new and special. A wonderment. A marveling. New senses. This little girl part of me that loved the moon and didn't mind watching ants. Who absorbed meaning from the feel of her pulse. That got excited spotting a daisy pillow up high and across the store at Salvation Army. Someone who would arrange and rearrange her newfound bargain kitchen center piece for a good 15 minutes, and then clap her hands like a two year old when it looked just right. And oh, thanking God over and over for the smell of coffee and the solitude of her living room. It has all been God. He's invited into the wonderment. He is the wonderment. I walk with Him. I see things through His eyes. I feel like an innocent and happy 8 year old tearing the wrapping paper off gift after gift. And, IT'S ALL THE TIME. What is this joy in me? I'm amazed at His revelations. I love to hear Him laugh and see Him smile. He is great fun of the best kind. I am a child again when I walk the forest in search of something pretty. Only this child is NEW. So new, that I can't even explain her adequately. She can be serious but FREE. So free. And, moving with the breeze that blows across her face. I didn't get her then but God has gifted me ten times over with her now. What was taken has been given and the greatest part is that she isn't "she" or "her" anymore. SHE IS ME!
The worship that comes from the most enormous of smalls is extraordinarily powerful.
Amen.
That was a wonderful explanation of going from an inner child with difficulty to being accepted and loved by Jesus. So much that it seems that maybe your own self compassion and acceptance of who you were has turned into who you are and you are benefiting from this intimate acceptance and love of Jesus. Just a thought. But nevertheless I thought you shared some very precious insights.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Ron. That is an interesting thought. I had to really think that through for a minute. Yes, very possible!
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