The Inspire Series: Dream Girl
I remember sitting on a baby-bear chair in the back of the first grade classroom.
Me. And twenty other moms wiping sweat beads off of our foreheads on a sultry May day near the school year’s end.
The kids were lined up in a perfect row in front of the whiteboard at the classroom’s head. Each child held a laminated sheet of writing paper, that precious elementary-school-kind with thick red lines separated by light blue dashes in the middle.
The students were beaming, bouncing with excitement and flashing their toothless grins. And we beamed back, proud and expectant.
Finally the teacher stepped in front of the wiggly line and the noise dropped to a low hum. With a smile that could have lit up a starless night, Mrs. Smith announced the purpose of our gathering. The kids had been working hard on Mother’s day poems, and they were ready to share their words with their guests of honor.
I could only imagine what she had concocted on her little laminated sheet of paper. Eloquent lines about our Sunday afternoon walks and Saturday morning pancakes. Accolades for my silly singing and impromptu story telling. Praises for our girl dates and game nights.
When Lizzy’s turn finally came, she flashed me a confident grin. Then she began to read loudly and clearly.
“I love my mommy because she is never too big to play with me.” She paused, caught my eye, and then finished with a sanguine smile.“And that’s why my mommy is the best mommy in all the world.”
It wasn’t exactly Shakespeare, but my little girl’s ode had captured one of the sacred sweetnesses we share; the joy of play.
Play is an incredible tool for weaving our ordinary days with threads of the extraordinary. It is a gift that reminds us to redeem time rather than ransack it.
Maybe that’s why I’m crazy about my friend, Laura Boggess.
She inspires me to play.
And this dear friend doesn’t just urge me to get on the floor and push Hotwheels around with my son, she encourages me to to have playdates with God, to soar on the swings and run in the rain and laugh at the long-necked giraffe in the zoo. Laura reminds me to become a child at heart and let my Savior thrill my soul.
Laura’s faith is vibrant. Her heart is generous. And her love for Jesus is contagious. Everyone needs a friend like Laura. Please help me welcome her to the Overflow! today…
In the night I dream I am a child.
This body sheds free the years and I am unfettered once again. My torso becomes a breath, these legs long and lanky, my arms–two sticks reaching out from the trunk of me. I am a stranger in my body but I remember this. Oh, yes, I remember this. There is sun-warmed moss beneath my bare feet and I am loosed to run—limbs strong and tireless—forgetting sorrows lived into this skin.
In my dream, we are on the cusp of summer, ready to dive headlong into her depths. I feel her breath fan out on my sleeping cheeks—feel her days linger long before me. When the night comes, so does the dew…soft-gathered on blades of grass. Summer beckons me to stay outdoors long into the night. And my child-self delights to be her guest of honor.
We are catching fireflies. Each twinkling star in the sky above is matched below by a living one and I feel my heart startle with joy each time the air winks before me.
But when I wink back and open my eyes, the dream is gone. And so are the fireflies.
Darkness still lingers but morning peeks at the corners of my window. I move from the bed and feel the fullness of the years gathered up in this body. I creep downstairs and light my candle—my Christ-light. It floods clarity, eyes slowly adjust and I move from vague dimness to this brilliance.
I sit by the window and think about the dream.
When did I forget? When did I grow too old to feel the joy of legs flying free under stars?
But maybe it’s not the sum of the years. I feel Him nudge me. Maybe it’s my mental age. I’m too mature for such things. Too wise.
It’s then that I remember something I recently read.
In her book God in the Yard: Spiritual Practice for the Rest of Us, L.L. Barkat tells me about Wisdom. She reminds me of Proverbs 8, in which Wisdom speaks: When he established the heavens, I was there, when he drew a circle on the face of the deep…then I was beside him, like a master worker…
If wisdom is a master worker, then I think I will just stay here by the window…let the children play in the red glow of the sun. Not me.
But…Barkat tells me more.
…I never noticed the playful attitude of Wisdom, until one day when I read the footnote; “master worker” can also be translated “little child.” Have you seen a little child, delighting in something he loves? The sense is far different from a master worker, which elicits visions of toil and exclusionary concentration…When I could see Wisdom dodging God’s feet, chanting singsong, clapping hands, this radically changed my view of God’s invitations…God in this particular passage seemed to call me to play.
Restless now, I move outside under disappearing stars. The robins are not yet roused from their nests and the stillness thrills awake the sleeping parts in me. Leaves wave in breeze as limbs bend and sway, light begins to seep in at the edges of the horizon. There is moisture in the air—God’s breath all over me.
Come and play, he breathes. Come and play.
I think about my children asleep upstairs. I feel my heart begin to lift.
Is it wise? I ask Him, uncertain.
It is so very wise, He says. Come and play.
Before I can change my mind, I run. In the dim light of dawn I find the heavy swing and I fly. I pump my legs and reach my toes to the sky. My long nightgown flows out behind as the breeze catches me. I lean my head back and laugh. The morning dew clings to my skin, washes me clean.
I haven’t forgotten. I haven’t forgotten how to fly at all.
When I come back down I see them looking out the window. My boys are wondering if their mommy has lost her mind.
They haven’t seen anything yet. Just wait until they see me catching fireflies…
Laura is a morning person who loves the sound of the wind in the trees. Jesus is her first love, and she has a a passion for sharing stories that draw others closer to Him. Laura’s a psychologist by day, but writing is her joy. She is the book-review editor at The High Calling, a story-teller at The Wellspring, and the author of two published books, Brody’s Story and Derek’s Story; together they are the Wings of Klaio series. Laura believes every life has a tale to tell. She’s crafting hers in a little valley in West Virginia, tucked between the hills. You can find Laura at The Wellspring or follow her on Twitter @lauraboggess.
Linking with Jennifer for Tell His Story, Beth for Wedded Wednesdays
Laura, this is so beautiful. I’m glad to see you here at Alicia’s place. I think play is something I’m working hard to (re-)capture as an adult because I only experienced it in glimmers as a child, and it faded far too soon in the face of responsibility and care taking. To see wisdom as play, God’s love as an invitation to enjoy — this touches me deeply. Imagining you on that swing and the looks on your children’s faces…oh my goodness, along with that declaration, “I haven’t forgotten.” Yes!
Oh miss Laura! Come to my house so we can take a spin down a gravel road in the big ole Diesel truck — windows rolled down, music blasting, bare feet tapping, and hair, blowing wild across our faces.
Blessings.
Our furry babies keep us young too, don’t they , Dolly? Yes, swinging is my favorite :). I need to get back out there soon–it’s a great way to take wing. Laura Barkat is such an inspiration to me.
Love to you, lady.
Laura and Alicia ~
It’s a joy to find you both here in one place! Two of my faves…
Laura, I love your playful heart, but you never do speak of playdates in a way that makes light of God’s might and power. Your words always evoke a reverence for God. He is both friend and Savior, … confidant and all-mighty Creator.
He is the maker of fireflies … and Fire.
What a God we serve … one who we can approach with confidence and even with playfulness, while also bowing low in His mere presence.
Laura,
I love reading your thoughts and L.L. Barkat’s thoughts…and Alicia’s….
Play must be in the air because my post was about watching our dog play and what it brought up for me….and swings are the best 🙂 Did you close your eyes and feel your stomach drop?
I have all new motivation to play—grandgirls (one and 2 !/2). My grandmother was the best playmate (and God-lover) I ever witnessed. She pull feed sacks out of the barn for sack races. And of course, she raced with us. I know I can be heavy-hearted at times until I remember that Wisdom is over all. There’s great comfort in that during these uncertain days.
The kids keep our eyes open to wonder, don’t they, Dea? Getting down low always helps me see better. It sounds like your grandmother was a special lady. What a gift to you–such a blessing to have her example to hold in your memory. Yes, Wisdom is over all. Lovely thought.
Don’t we all need this reminder to go play? Sometimes we forget. Thank you for this reminder, we’re never too old or wise for play
I know I do, Alecia. I get so caught up in all those grown-up responsibilities. I make regular playdates with God now, once a week. Somedays, it’s the only thing that keeps me going–looking forward to special time with God. Thanks for stopping by and commenting!
Alicia — and Laura — thank you for your beautiful words inspiring and prodding me to go and “play.” Blessings!
Thank you for stopping by, Kristen. And thank YOU, Alicia, for inviting me 🙂