The longer I live, the more I realize why Jesus thinks little kids are the bee’s knees.
In a world that is cynical, cold and obsessed with junk, it’s our kids that rock the norm.
Not only do these tiny peeps live on the brighter side of life. But warmth also spews out of them. Fighting the cold and telling whoever will hear, “Hey, I’ll share everything and anything—even my boogers!!!”
God bless them.
(And the mamas and papas who must be better than Kleenex.)
Kids sing in the middle of grocery stores. They dance down hospital hallways. They travel to Africa and back IN THEIR HEADS.
THEY. ARE. FANTASTIC.
And they know it.
Not in an arrogant or pious kind of way.
But in a “If God says I rock, then clearly I do.”
I feel it every day as my son jumps out of the car and shouts back at me, “I’m gonna go be awesome today, mom. Now you go be awesome, too!”
I see it every time we go to the grocery store and my 3-year-old rocks an Ariel dress, two different sparkly shoes (one that is her sister’s and flops when she walks) and a big giant red bow that only barely covers her syrup-matted hair.
I hear it in the enthusiastic projection of my 8-year-old as she belts out “Let It Go” for the (bless me) 902nd time. It all screams, “Broadway, I’m fabulous. And if you haven’t heard me sing yet, watch the hoot out.”
It is an unabashed confidence that says, “Listen up, y’all. I am fearfully and wonderfully made!!! And if you doubt it for a moment, let me show you what makes me special. ”
They are the best of us, uncomplicated and without baggage.
And even though they still have moments where even we as parents realize they need Jesus, our kids model daily how to take the truth of our “made in God’s image” selves and rock it.
That is if we learn.
Now the world will work very hard at wearing down that confidence.
It will call them what I often call myself.
Too flabby. Too scattered. Too slow.
Too against the grain.
But as much as I have accepted those labels for myself, when I see how my kids view themselves and the world God created, I want to fight against those negative monikers.
I want to cast off every piece of nasty baggage and see myself the way my Creator sees me.
Fearfully and wonderfully made.
And it’s why I am keeping three pictures for my babies. Tucking them close to my heart. And waiting for the day I hear, “I’m too flabby. I’m too scattered. I’m too slow.”
Because when those days come, I will break them out and say, “See this…”
“These are words or this is the look of someone who thinks that if God thinks she’s awesome, then it must be so. Chase that. Want that. Wear that. And no matter what happens, don’t let it go.”
Then I’ll hug her and kiss him and pray crazily over all three, eventually tucking the pictures close to my heart once again.
But before I do, I’ll take one long last look at each and remind myself again of a little boy’s drop-off farewell…
““I’m gonna go be awesome today, mom. Now you go be awesome, too!”
Sara Cormany guest posts on the first Friday of each month. Sara is mommy to six-year-old Grace, four-year-old Drew and one-year-old Sophie. When she is not wiping noses, changing diapers or chasing her kids, she is a sometimes writer and a sometimes teacher to teenagers. But her most cherished role is that of one who is perfectly held by Jesus. She loves watching Him take the broken, the messy and the seemingly mundane of her everyday and turn it into something beautiful. She recently began her own blog called Where Feet May Fail. Be sure to check it out.