Tuesday, September 25, 2012
In Matthew 10:16, Jesus says to me, "Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, therefore be wise as serpents and innocent as doves." Jesus is making me a sheep on purpose. He could make me a lion - strong, fearless, and independent. But instead, He makes me a weak, fallible, and very dependent sheep. He calls me to follow Him - my trustworthy Shepherd - in simplicity. He calls me to be wise about His love and care for me, to trust in His protection. He also calls me to be aware that this will be a scary ride and that life will inevitably vomit all over the lovely, fluffy fur with which He has covered me. "Be aware," says my good Shepherd, "but don't worry. The vomit is gross but I'll wash your fur for you."
Friday, September 21, 2012
Today I was watching Reagan and Tucker. Another little boy came over to play, Will. Of course, Reagan wanted to play Princesses. I put her in the Merida costume she got for her fourth birthday a few weeks ago. Then, she grabbed Will’s hands and with the biggest smile on her face, exclaimed,
Poor Will looked very nervous and quickly took away his hands as if he suddenly realized that cooties were directly transferable though dancing.
“No, no, no,” he insisted. “I don’t want to dance.”
As he went back to the cars and trucks and trains of the playroom, Reagan looked at me, thoroughly confused by this rude interruption to her precious reality.
“Katie,” she said in distress. “That prince won’t dance with me!”
“I’m sorry, princess,” I replied. “It’s fun to dance, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but why won’t he dance with me? He has to dance with the princess and that’s me!”
Kids say the darndest things, don’t they? Never one to miss a teaching opportunity, I scooped her up in my arms and kissed her head.
“You know, Reagan, sometimes prince’s are really difficult to deal with. A lot of times, they don’t want to dance. I know that’s no fun, but even when a prince doesn’t want to dance with you, you are still a princess.”
“Katie,” she looked up at me. “Will you get me out of this dress? It’s scratchy.”
“Sure,” I smiled and pulled the dress over her head, leaving her in her pajamas.
“Thank you,” she said and jumped down from my lap. “Hey Will,” she shouted as she ran into the playroom. “Wanna play tag?”
“Yeah!” he shouted.
They ran around the house for the next twenty minutes, laughing and jumping, never once concerned with the tedious task of finding a dance partner.
The moral of the story is: whether a boy treats you like a princess of not, you’re still a princess, so don’t worry about it. Do what’s fun and natural for you – like tag. And remember, whether that boy is 3, 23, or 103, prince’s are very difficult to deal with!