Catching up with my little me

Do you ever feel like you're catching up with your child self? The one that dreamed and received love so easily?

The one that thought people would, of course, be kind?

When I was little, I loved meeting new people. I drew outside the lines. I sang outside for hours and fell asleep to the radio at night. I wrote songs and poems about what I loved.

There was wonder in an acorn and glory in soft grass.

I gave big hugs and nibbled dessert to make it last forever.

I talked to God on the swingset and let my toes touch the sky. I asked God who His mother was and where did the sky end and heaven start?

I waited on the front steps for my daddy to come home from work. There was never a thought of him not coming, or of me giving up waiting.

I took my wounds to my mommy and never doubted her ability to make life better.

I learned my doctrine from good hymns and sang my heart out.

I prayed at the altar once till everyone was gone and the whole evening service waited for me. While it was mortifying to walk back to my pew on my little legs, I wondered how in the world people had so little to talk to God about that they were done at the altar so quickly.

But somewhere in the growing up, I was taught that being good at your gifts could be very lonely. I am, in some ways, just now catching back up to my skill level when I was in junior high. I couldn'