Today, Mia walked through the grocery store (no cart, no stroller) and chose her own breakfast muffin this morning. She said, "chip pre-pees, Momma?" and pointed to the huge chocolate chip-laden pastry in the case. That's my girl.
Today, Abi helped me pick out a dress for an interview. "Well, mom... the blue one has pretty stripes, but you should get the other one. It looks like it belongs on you. It makes you look like you have something to say." Alright, then. Decision made.
Today, Ben grumbled and groaned like a teenager when I made him get up for breakfast. He also changed Ian's diaper with out being asked. Really.
Today, Ian made up songs to the tune of the ABC's expressing his feelings on potty training, shopping and alligators. He also informed me that a T-Rex doesn't like bubblegum. (Too many teeth to brush, of course.) True.
On this normal, summer day full of banter and bickering, Bar-b-Que and bubble-baths, shopping and sprinkler runs two realities hit me like the image of a T-Rex chewing watermelon flavored Bubblicious:
One, These kids are utterly amazing.
And two, they are growing up incredibly fast.
In eight years, Ben will be driving. That's like two blinks from now, at this rate. The clothes I brought tiny Mia Grace home from the hospital in, like, say... yesterday, now fit the dolls she carries around the house while she imitates my limp and sings praise songs I learned in college. Where is the pause button? It's a whirlwind; always changing, always moving, always growing.
Sometimes, late at night while they sleep, I try to recount the whole day in my head, just to make sure I didn't miss any moments. At warp speed, they have morphed from these sweet-smelling lumps of sleep deprivation and joy to strong, independent free-thinking personalities. I just don't want to miss any of it. Sure, moments come when patience and perspective runs thin, and I might wish to fast forward just a little...But what would I miss in the trade-off? A smile? A chance to wipe a tear? A moment when the gritty rough parts of their soul might rub and shape mine just a little more? If I had a choice, I would opt for slow motion play over a fast forward breeze through any time.
But the slow-motion-play feature that exists on our TV does not have an equivalent in life.
Now we buy diapers and wipes and goldfish crackers by the case. Soon the list might include i-pads and prom dresses. Ian will probably still want the goldfish though.
I joke with my kids that they grow-up too quickly. I tell them to slow down, sometimes I say to stop for a while. This used to elicit the "you-so-crazy-Mommy" looks on their adorable little faces. They would give me the eyes and move on. Now, their response is different.
"But Mom, we have to keep growing, all the time. That's the way God made it."
Right again, littles.
That's the way God made it. For you to be growing all the time. Sometimes you grow so fast, I have to get you new pajama pants since you busted out of the others overnight. Sometimes the growth seems less obvious. Then I realize you ave developed this whole other amazing dimension of thinking, or vocabulary, or skill, and I almost missed it. But you are always growing.
Then, I remember Jesus telling people that they should have faith like a child. They should relate to Yahweh, like a child. We like to strive to relate as adults sure of stature, and role, and position. But what if Jesus wants a faith that revels in constant growth? We might not want to grow because it's hard, and full of change. Maybe we aren't quite sure what that next step will feel like.
Faith, like child, is designed to grow. Sometimes, as God's children, we grow in spurts that devour all the food in the house. We learn something new and soak it up like a sponge. Then sometimes, we grow in less noticeable ways, that build over time and require others reflection to see. We may even feel stagnant. But we want roots of faith that sink deep so we wait.
Children grow naturally, by design. But, they thrive under conditions with three things:
One, they need nourishment. The food and water of faith consists of the scriptures and the traditions we hold. Take them in. Identify with them. Participate in them. Feed your soul throughout the day, the way we feed our body.
Two, they need love. A friend of mine tells a story of his time in Russian orphanages. He speaks of tiny, frail children who fail to thrive because they do not get held, or cuddled. They lay in cribs, clean and fed, but without loving contact they fade away. Love fuels and sustains the growth of our faith, and our relationship to the One who defines it. Speak love. Show love. Walk love. Live love.
And three, they need community. Community teaches kids. It molds their growth and guides it. Community in family, or in schools, or in sports gives purpose, direction, and even discipline, when necessary. We were created to need other people. The Church serves that purpose in the growth of our faith.
Jesus asks for faith like a child. We can allow ourselves to be loved, nourished and enfolded into true community. We can seek the Father as his children, ready to grow and thrive, and excited about where the whirlwind adventure will lead.
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