Bold-Wild-Free

I hugged him tight, and he did the most interesting thing…

He tenderly placed his forehead to my head.

As he did, he didn’t look away.

Instead, he held eye contact boldly, and he smiled sweetly, giggling as we stared at each other.

I smiled, I laughed,

And I cried.

I was the one who pulled away first.

Overwhelmed by the boldness of this toddler in my arms.

I squeezed him one more time before handing him back to his Dad.

How did he learn to be so unafraid?

How did he know I was safe?

How did he just act on what he wanted?

I want to be that brave.

He hasn’t been hurt by the world yet, she said.

My therapist—she sees the unseen.  I do too, with other people’s stories.  Other people’s pain.

But not with myself. 

Where I can move fast with other peoples needs, mine feel like drowning in quicksand at times.

I was jealous of a 3-year-old.

I envied his living on 12 at all times.

I was in awe of his ability to share his emotions so freely and just as quickly move through them.

He was not shy in any ounce of his being. 

I laid down on the ground the first day visiting, and he immediately dive bombed me, landing on my back with a thud and a fit of laughter. 

Boundaries did not exist—everyone was his playground.

He would tell me stories with a dinosaur voice,

And would snuggle in my lap handing me his favorite books.

Without warning, he ran at me full blast, would leap into my arms, and expected me to catch him.

His signature dance move was a gallop complimented by a stink face, while simultaneously waving his ribbon wand wildly. 

He was beautiful.

Were you ever this innocent? 

This free?

We all grow up too fast. 

When Jesus says we need to become like little children to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, did He mean this?

I keep trying to figure out how I could ever put my forehead to Jesus’.

Maintain eye contact.

Giggle at Him expecting delight in return.

Can I run to Him and expect Him to catch me?

My faith says yes.

Everything else in me, no.

What will I find on the other side of that gaze?

Touch?

Laugh?

I need to be more like Beau.

I need to run fast to Jesus.

I need to see His eyes, hear His voice.

What does His laugh sound like?

Maybe in my 24th year of knowing Jesus, I will begin to grow younger by the year.  Trusting Jesus with a childlike faith that makes me bold and wild and free. I want to worship like that.  I want to know Him that closely.

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