When William was 3 years old, he had this delightful thing he did. If he was out of the room from me for a little while, he'd bounce back in smiling, "Here I am, Daddy!" As if I had surely missed him, I had certainly wondered where he was and (most importantly) as if William fully expected that I was thrilled to see him.
There's a profound sense of vulnerability in that confidence. It would have been easy to inadvertently crush the tender petals of his spirit with just the turn of a head, stony look of a face, or mumbled words.
Leaving myself that unprotected is incomprehensible to me. Even in a more vulnerable moment, I'm bringing a picture with me I had just drawn, or showing how I can read words beyond my age level or telling how I just jumped farther than ever before. I am not having those expectations of joy about just me.
What if I left my drawings on the table, climbed down from the chair, took those steps around the corner and said, "Here I am." What if there is someone whose heart would nearly burst with delight at seeing just me step around the corner? Doesn't seem likely. Hardly even seems possible. But to be honest, I don't know because I can't remember ever trying. I keep distracted from the possibility with the Bang and the Clatter.
Today is Ash Wednesday. I can't say I'm stepping around the corner anytime soon, but I can say I am going to try to pare the Bang and the Clatter.
If you have any thoughts on Lent, plans of your own, or experience with your own Bang and Clatter, I'd love to hear.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
No comments on Lent or Bang and Clatter, however, I do have a comment about the getting down from the table and confidently stating "here I am" knowing that I'll be embraced with love and excitement.
I just finished the Shack, which is a good read. In any event it is about the relational nature of God and his workings through life (the good and the bad). The book does a great job of expressing my desired view of God; the view that I strive to attain and generally get in my own way on. In any event, the book shows a brief glimpse of what that self-confidence could look like. I must admit, I liked it. Now I just have to get there.
"Leaving myself that unprotected is incomprehensible to me."
This protection seems to be the goal so much of the time. I've insured my home, my cars, my health, my life; I built an emergency fund of cash; I save for retirement and cling to "steady paying work" - especially in economic times like these.
I've been thinking a lot lately about Comfort vs. Adventure, and how my life has generally centered around Comfort. I've been quite successful at climbing the Comfort ladder. I'm very comfortable. But the flip side is boredom, apathy, and/or living vicariously through other people's adventures. With this I sometimes struggle.
You mentioned vulnerability in William's confidence. I think there is also significant confidence necessary to be that vulnerable - to turn that corner hoping 1)someone will be there, and 2)they'll care.
Post a Comment