Last night as I lay warmly, tucked and mindful of one of the last nights I'd partner with my electric blanket, I couldn't help but desperately try to follow all the avenues my brain decided to trek, and take detours, then stop, and go again. End of day processing, and attempts to fall asleep, can be some what of a chore at times. Disciplines of meditation, deep breathing, relaxation techniques and prayer are all things that I've found helpful for those of who find yourself in similar spots.
Amidst many wonderful faces popping up whom I delighted in interceding in prayer for, another face popped up. It was a little girl. I should preface this by divulging that I've tried to be intentional about processing my heart, thoughts, & emotions during this transition process, in light of both the life and geographical effect. This can prove to be difficult when you have unending lists of things to do and people to see.
But still, I couldn't shake this image of a little girl out of my mind. As I looked closer I came to realize that that little dark haired, ungraceful girl was me. In my childhood form. And what she was doing was holding toys and trinkets in the bulk of her arms. As she gazed at them, suddenly one popped out. As she bent down to pick it up again, yet another ball fell out of the other side. She squat down with her little chubby legs to try and to detain the new runaway only to have her hair fall, obstructing her limited childhood gaze. Phew, Phew she blew as she tried to clear the tangled mess. To no avail. Squinting her eyes in an attempt to focus, she set off once again in the noble mission of reclaiming her lost ball, while protecting and directing the current treasure within her arms.
Even as I type this with my One Village coffee in hand at 9:30a on a snowy morning of my twenty seventh year of living, I'm strangely aroused to the fact that not much is different between my current self and that little girl. Inclusive of even the fact that my hair is still a mess from not yet engaging the day, I find that I still share the same sentiments of this little girl. We both believe that what we are doing is worthwhile and important. Yet we both mess up all the time as we strive to do a good job in the midst of the honesty of who we are. She gets distressed momentarily, but not anxious. She gets frustrated, but not defeated. She lives in the freedom of her present, equipped task, and doesn't fret over what bigger things her eyes cannot see. She simply doesn't worry about them. Her gift without realizing it, is her simple presence and beauty, innocence, and joy. She lives in the freedom of not feeling pressured to be an expert, or have answers, or master skills. She lives in a world where she is perfect. As she is. And I have so much to learn from her.
He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."
-Matt 18: 2-4
Amidst many wonderful faces popping up whom I delighted in interceding in prayer for, another face popped up. It was a little girl. I should preface this by divulging that I've tried to be intentional about processing my heart, thoughts, & emotions during this transition process, in light of both the life and geographical effect. This can prove to be difficult when you have unending lists of things to do and people to see.
But still, I couldn't shake this image of a little girl out of my mind. As I looked closer I came to realize that that little dark haired, ungraceful girl was me. In my childhood form. And what she was doing was holding toys and trinkets in the bulk of her arms. As she gazed at them, suddenly one popped out. As she bent down to pick it up again, yet another ball fell out of the other side. She squat down with her little chubby legs to try and to detain the new runaway only to have her hair fall, obstructing her limited childhood gaze. Phew, Phew she blew as she tried to clear the tangled mess. To no avail. Squinting her eyes in an attempt to focus, she set off once again in the noble mission of reclaiming her lost ball, while protecting and directing the current treasure within her arms.
Even as I type this with my One Village coffee in hand at 9:30a on a snowy morning of my twenty seventh year of living, I'm strangely aroused to the fact that not much is different between my current self and that little girl. Inclusive of even the fact that my hair is still a mess from not yet engaging the day, I find that I still share the same sentiments of this little girl. We both believe that what we are doing is worthwhile and important. Yet we both mess up all the time as we strive to do a good job in the midst of the honesty of who we are. She gets distressed momentarily, but not anxious. She gets frustrated, but not defeated. She lives in the freedom of her present, equipped task, and doesn't fret over what bigger things her eyes cannot see. She simply doesn't worry about them. Her gift without realizing it, is her simple presence and beauty, innocence, and joy. She lives in the freedom of not feeling pressured to be an expert, or have answers, or master skills. She lives in a world where she is perfect. As she is. And I have so much to learn from her.
He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."
-Matt 18: 2-4
Hint: I'm the youngest (aka chubby baby) and yes, that is an authentic She-Ra Princess of Power doll. The 80's did rock. :)
+of+IMG_0669.JPG)
