Eyes of a Child

Starting out I can already tell this blog post won’t be like most of my blog posts.  It’s not going to be nice, neat, and orderly.  It’ll probably have dozens of rabbit trails, and it may not even make sense.  I’m not even sure where we’ll end up when all is said and done, but I felt like rambling, and I’m in one of those moods.  So, I make no guarantees you won’t be wasting 15 minutes of your life by reading this, but please, feel free to read on anyways.

Why is it we are so caught up in the bigger and better things in life?  I mean seriously?  I know people say that, but they never really think it through.  It just sounds like a cool, deep thing to say.  Why are we caught up in the “bigger and better”?  What really is the bigger and better, anyways?

I once heard a girl say that she was doing the dishes and thought to herself “I need to hurry up with this so I can get on to the bigger and better things”, at which point she realized a very profound truth.  That was the bigger and better things.  She was taking care of her family, ministering to them in love by taking care of their most basic needs.  That really struck me, and I’ve never forgotten it.  What really is the bigger and better?

And for that matter, where did we lose that child-like simplicity of loving the little things?  Why don’t we stop to smell the roses- as cliché as that sounds?  Why don’t we take a moment to send someone else a card or a letter, knowing it will bring them joy?  Why don’t we take the time to find out about other people, for that matter?  There is a whole hurting world out there, but we are too busy to reach a hand out and minister, even in the simplest of ways like asking how someone is doing!

But I digress.  Told you I would.  Let me try and regroup my thoughts for a sec….

How many ordinary miracles do we pass by in life because we have lost our wonder— our fascination?  You know, little kids fascinate me.  They notice the simplest of things and find them amazing.  Elianna- my adorable and bewitching little sister- is fascinated by buttons.  She has to feel everyone’s buttons and inspect them.  Have you ever really stopped to look at buttons?  They really are rather fascinating, in their own little way.  They are an embellishment to any outfit, but they are so simple, we pass them over.  Some buttons have cool designs on them, interesting cut marks- they are made out of different materials and made into different shapes- but they are so simple, we never take the time to pay attention.

Children see things through different eyes.  They aren’t bothered by deadlines and schedules.  They go through life just enjoying and soaking up the things around them.  When did I lose that?

You know, when I was a child, I lived near the ocean.  The waves were majestic and awe-inspiring.  The rhythmic dance of the waters crashing upon, and rushing away from, the shore is amazing to witness.  It’s even more incredible to hear.  Especially at night!  You almost feel like nothing in the world could be out of place when you hear the coming and going of water over the rocks.  All is peaceful, all is calm.  There is a reason why every sound machine on the market mimics its roar. 

Over time, though, I got older, and the ocean lost its beauty.  Shocking thing to say, I know, but if you are reading this and you have lived by the ocean for a long period of time, you know what I mean.  While I used to hang on the sounds of the ocean and revel in its beauty, I grew accustomed to it.  I grew complacent.  Over time, the ocean view became life- it was something I took for granted.  Often we would pass by in the car and I no longer pressed my face to the window.  It just flew past me, and I let it.

Then I moved away.  I missed the ocean, naturally, but I easily grew accustomed to not having it around. 

Now, fast forward to three years ago, and I’m back at the ocean visiting family.  The awe, the majesty, the raw power- all of it crashed in upon me and made me fall hopelessly in love with large bodies of water all over again.  The waves were beautiful, the sand glistened, and the roar was even more imposing than I could remember.  I had regained that child-like wonder, and I was sad to leave it.

Why do we allow ourselves to get this way?  Why do we lose sight of the beautiful things in life?  Our society is so fast paced that we lose focus on what’s really important in life.  Which brings me to the real tacitity of my thoughts. 

How easily do we lose our wonder of God?  When do we stop looking up at Him with the adoring eyes of a child?  How many times do I take Him for granted?  How many times do I pass over the fact that I am free to worship here in America.  That I have not one Bible, but multiple Bibles (what, I like my different translations to read side by side), whereas many people around the world share theirs with 20 other people!

There are so many facets to God, it’s not like we really have an excuse to get bored.  He’s so complex and multi-layered.  And yet we pass over so many aspects of His character.  We become complacent.  We lose our passion. 

I know that I, personally, need to be more intentional when it comes to my walk with the Lord, and my delight in Him.  I want to be that child, led by the hand of a loving Father, once more.  When I was first saved, I had this childish glee, like a kid in a candy shop.  There was so much to learn, so much I had never seen before.  But with growth and the gaining of knowledge came “adulthood” and complacency.  I wasn’t a baby in the faith anymore, and I lost something very precious.  I lost the eyes of a child.  And that is a dangerous place for a Christian to remain.

I want to have the childlike wonder again.  I want to see things as ordinary miracles- the dew drops on a spider’s web, the blossoms on a tulip tree- but more importantly, I want to see things with renewed interest as I go through The Word.  I want to be giddy again in the way I look at scripture and the attributes of God.  When we become dry and complacent, we become dissatisfied and we can end up off course.  I don’t want to be there. 

I want to look through the eyes of a child once more.  Do you?