Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Sometimes I Feel Like God

Sometimes I picture myself in twenty years, describing to my daughter her life before she was cognizant of it.

When you were very little, you would chase me around the kitchen, squealing with joy. You could barely walk, but you would stagger after me. You couldn't talk, either, but gibberish flowed from your little voice in a steady stream. I was aware of everything. I was who I am now, but you were different. You don't remember, but I do.

One day Praise will know things about life. She will have seen the good and the bad, and she will form opinions about how to live and what matters. One day, the veil will be lifted, the intellectual playing field will be leveled, and we'll be able to laugh together at the things she used to do before she "knew better." Before she grew up. Before she became mentally and physically mature.
What if physically growing up is a metaphorical microcosm for spiritually growing up

Right now, Praise isn't fully aware of life. She doesn't recognize danger, doesn't understand generosity, doesn't know how clean up after herself. Yet. She'll learn in time, and it may take twenty years to teach her... but one day the veil will be lifted, and she'll understand reality (if we do our jobs right). 

I think our souls take a long time to mature. They're hidden, so they take awhile for us to discover them. Even as adults we find ourselves searching for the answers to the questions our souls are asking. We stumble along, reacting, planning, hoping, dreaming and often, failing. But we don't really know. Yet. We won't fully be aware of eternity until our souls are finally free of the mental and physical world we live in.
 Maybe one day the veil will be lifted on our souls.  

What if when we die, we get to take a look back and have a laugh, like me and Praisie in twenty years. Except this time it's our heavenly Father and us. What if one day He shows us the things we did, and we laugh together because we both know better. We both understand the weight of eternity. 

When you were very little, in your thirties, your mind would run around in circles. You were anxious because you didn't trust me. You were selfish because you thought it would make you happy. You didn't know the right way to live, or love. I was there. I was aware of everything. I was who I am now, but you were different. You don't remember, but I do.



  1. Huh. Interesting take on it. Laughing at our former life and how silly we were. On things we don't even remember we did or said. I wonder...

  2. This is beautiful. Thank you.

  3. This is one of your best entries in awhile! I see you are becoming alittle more prolific as Praise grows older, soon there will be another to look back with and maybe it run something like "remember when Praisie took your favorite toy and you got mad?" Oh the joys of parenting! But I like the way you think, it's very similar to me. I have often imagined those types of conversations with God!