even for an hour

     I went to the park with a two-year-old yesterday. He was Meriwether Lewis and William Clark and Neil Armstrong and Marco Polo. His whole small self was asking what-is-it: What is this truck? What is this sand? What is this slide? He didn’t meander from one thing to another. He trotted, leaning (precariously) forward in his eagerness.     

     He was all there. He was present. He wasn’t partly in yesterday and partly in tomorrow. He wasn’t bored. He wasn’t resigned. He wasn’t jaded. He wasn’t on autopilot. He wasn’t multitasking. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t worried. He knew that somebody who loves him was watching out for him the whole time. I wonder what it would be like to live that way, even for an hour.

“He tends His flock like a shepherd. He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart.” Isaiah 40:11