|Five minute Friday:Grow|
We were all packed in on bleacher seating,
knees twisted at precarious angles, and restraining little sister legs, swinging the full of the bounce that being a fresh 3 years into life can hold.
It's cold now, so there are mounds of jackets slipping from shoulders and through the cracks. Within minutes the heat begins to rise from stagment grown-ups.
In tromps the first child, and with that, every parent is straining to get a glimpse of their child walk through the gym door.
What a sight these kindergartners are: some with jeans, sweatshirts, white pockets protruding....others in full Christmas dress display, black shoes glistening in florescent light. Their hair still holds the fresh colic of sleep, but their face radiates the hope of generations to come.
As they tear into their medley of "head and shoulders knees and toes" and "this light of mine", I watch in awe as the first child I bore stands before me, quite outside of my protection, showing me the skills he has honed while he's disappeared from me 8 hrs a day.
Soaking in this merry band of misfits: some sing too loud, others none at all, sneaker tongues hanging out, the undershirt of the sweatered selves came loose on the playground... seeing how very proud they were to give us the gift of song, and how amazingly happy we as family were to witness their growth, to rejoice in their joined voices. They were as sure of our love of them, and their worth as we were in our pride of their growth, their accomplishment.
I realized then, that heaven must look a lot like this...
A merry band of misfits: not looking at plain sight like a likely group of contemporaries; some dressed in sweats, holes in their jeans, stains on their shirts; others dressed in formal wear and hair done just so. Some who have lived their lives a little too loudly, others not loudly enough...but all beaming with pride to sing for our makers, and the assurance of our worth. And oh, how He must laugh with delight at our own songs, our growth.