Thirty-four

"Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kindom of heaven."

I guess the worst thing about growing up is that fun and amazement drift into sporadic entertainment and forced, ritualized behavior. The glow of vocation slips into the monotony of procedure. The exhaustion that comes from playing too hard becomes more effort than it is worth. Comfort is more yearned for than the experience of reading or talking away the night. Joy becomes a matter of observing and reflecting on the almost grotesquely carefee child.

Christ spoke several times of children and his attraction to them. He thought we needed to be like them, in some ways.

I pray that I never mistake atrophy of imagination for maturity. I pray that I never approach Christ so solemnly and so full of cynicism of years and doubts that I find him distracted while I whine to him. I pray I never see his eyes wander from me as he searches for a child lost in play.