| So, I've been spending quite a bit of time with a three-year-old lately... (she's so adorable!) Most of the time we spend talking about how Ariel could swim without her fin and why she can only have two pieces of candy. Sometimes, though, she suprises me with her toddler-wisdom. Today, we spread out a blanket at Roe Park and had a Panera picnic under a huge oak tree. After picking all of the cheese out of our fuji apple chicken salad, my toddler friend lay on her back and told me she was admiring the sky and the tree. "It's a beautiful sky, isn't it?" she asked. I agreed with her, and we began to talk about God and how he made the sky and the tree and her and her sister and her mommy and daddy. Now, maybe you can't appreciate what happened next unless you've spent some time with a three-year-old... there's something so sincere about their eyes. She sat up and started to sing to the sky about how beautiful God had made it and how he'd made this special day for her. And then she looked back at me, picked up her cup of sprite and quizzed me (as only a three-year-old can do), "God can hear us, can't he?" "Yes, Maggie, he can!" I replied. "Even when we're in the car?" "Yes, Maggie, even when we're in the car." "And even at our house?" "Yup, even in our house." "Even when our tummies are full of sprite?" "Yes, even then, Mags." And then she was fully satisfied that God could hear her at all times.
Now as I think back on this amusing little story, I realize... I want to be like Maggie. I want to believe my God can hear me at all times (even when my tummy is full of sprite) and to worship with abandon when a song rises up in me. |
