Three more doors


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Three doors remaining.  22, 23 and 24.  Young children can comprehend three.  Can count to three.  Know that beyond three is …  this wonderland of fun and excitement!

Become like a child.

The two of them skipped as we went out tonight.  A walk around the local street or three.  Up the “secret way” they had gone with Nana the other week.  A cut-through alley.  They skipped with excitement.  The excitement of looking at houses with outside Christmas Lights.  Walking needs calmness.  Excitement needs skipping.

Become childlike.

Tom sang the first verses of a carol.  School performance stuff.  Young children have remarkable memories.  The words got a bit jumbled.  I sang with him as Xander skipped ahead.  They don’t need grown-up explanations about the bible.  It’s either going to be an air-brushed bible – or a lecture in “free-thinking” – from an adult scared of being a child again.  What child needs a grown-up telling them Christmas is “for walking” – don’t run and never skip!

Become like a child.

Xander’s boots have lights that flash when he skips.  Another reason for skipping.  His very own Christmas lights.  Lights and young children are drawn together.  A small torch under the dining table.  A night-light.  An LED festooned mini-Christmas tree.  Boots that flash.  Outside Christmas lights and Santas.  And snowmen.  Or “bobs” as the two young lads call snowmen.  A Santa here – a bob there.

Become childlike.

And within twenty minutes the talk is of home again.  How far.  Which way.  How long.  Of Nana and Mummy.  Of dinner to come.  Of only three doors left to open.  And skipping – still skipping – and the first verses of that carol.  And then their recognition of being on “home ground” again.  The outside Christmas lights of houses they see every time they come/go from/to their own home.  The known again.  And new energised skipping.  Excitement of home.  Nana and Grandad’s home really (but not really).  New energy.  New excitement.

Become like a child.

I think we miss so much when we live the Christmas Story according to the script.  We celebrate The Child while remaining detached responsible adults exhibiting good  appropriate behaviour.  All things in moderation.  Focus on the “realigious” of Christmas.  Don’t get caught up in the excess.  Christmas is for walking with God.  Never run and never skip – that is for the unchurched – the unsaved – the ones who think it is all about eating, drinking and “being merry” (happy “holidays” indeed!).

Become childlike.

Remember that party game … nominate figures from history you would talk with … ?

I have yet to hear anyone say “Jesus”.

But this Christmas I would like to talk with Jesus.  I would like to skip with Jesus.  I would like to see him running ahead.  Hear him humming the first verses of a corny carol.  Share with him the excitement that must skip.  Excitement of “silly stuff”.  Excitement of ordinary stuff.  Excitement of the ordinary and extra-ordinary.  Excitement  that turns tantrums into tailspins of delight a mere second later.

I think Jesus would be more of that mindset than in saving my soul.  More of the moment than we ever are.  Less focused on his beautiful biography – more on whether I am skipping (or plodding appropriately).

Become like a child.

Why is it when we are young everyone and everything is either huge and old, or a cute baby?  Why do we learn to yearn for the old grown-up?  Why are we taught to walk rather than allowed to skip free?  Why do we seek the realigious … of becoming more “connected” … more in tune with godly ways …?

I think God isn’t (just) that homeless chap (we are always being told to appreciate).  I think God is that weird little kid who is fascinated by the ordinary – who can’t walk – who has to skip – who is fascinated by lights – who IS light in a dark world – the world we rush to join and then yearn to change.

I think Jesus would find that hilarious.  “Why do you always try change everything – but never yourself?”  Becoming childlike has a lot going for it.

Three doors left to open!  Wheeeeee ….. !

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4 thoughts on “Three more doors

  1. Pingback: Absolutes are never absolute | Just me being curious

  2. Dear Paul, how frightfully wonderful. On Christmas Day we watched the toddlers and preschooleers dancing and running around the Table. Wanting to sit on mummy’s hip as she preached to us, or with daddy as he played guitar because the band is on holiday. Daddy is our Pastor, a wonderful young man little older than my sons, I am glad I became free from the stiffness of Catholicism. Free, as in not scared anymore.

    Liked by 1 person

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