“Grandma, what color do blue and green make?” asked Emily.
I was trying to quickly get her into bed for her nap after returning home from the science center. I knew she was tired and required her rest.
Absentmindedly, as I covered her up, I replied, “It makes purple.”
“No, grandma, red and blue make purple,” she stated with confidence.
I could not believe my mistake and then to be corrected by a three year old! “You are right. I was not thinking.”
Emily started laughing. “Ashlyn, grandma said that blue and green make purple!!”
Both girls giggled at my silly mistake. Though humbled, I joined them in laughter.
The goof caused Emily and I to invent our own game. She sat up, repeated my mistake, and then I pushed her back down. We would both laugh, and the cycle would start over again. The girls even made up a song about grandma saying blue and green make purple. When their mom came home, my goof was instantly relayed to her.
Children can be relentless when they observe a crack in our “perfect” adult persona. Unfortunately, that trait often does not go away when childhood becomes adulthood. Perhaps it makes us seem better as we point out the mistakes and flaws in others. We might say it is for their own good, but the intensity and duration of the “helpfulness”often do not match the offense.
I will certainly not forget what I learned many years ago that red and blue produce purple. I will also think more before speaking to prevent avoidable errors and to prevent unnecessary and unwanted “helping”. Sometimes pointing out mistakes and flaws can be beneficial, but it is good to analyze the motives and methods.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A Lesson in Patience
Water to his knees. Tiptoeing silently along the shoreline. I watched, fascinated, by his endeavors. The blue heron stretched his long neck, stared at the calm water, and then moved on. With his head erect, he gazed further out into the dark lake. With extreme patience, he waded, walked, and looked with no rush at all.
My patience was short as I urged him to catch something so I could see the flash of movement when he snatched his prey. Then I could get on with my morning devotions. He was not in a hurry but continued watchful waiting for the perfect strike. He rarely misses after his deliberate, diligent waits.
How often have I plunged into a situation before I was thoroughly prepared? There have been times when I grew impatient and moved forward when the time was not right. I have attempted to be in control when it would have been better to wait on God’s timing. The next time I become impatient or try to forge ahead even though it does not really seem right, I will remember the single, blue heron who calmly walks the shore.
My patience was short as I urged him to catch something so I could see the flash of movement when he snatched his prey. Then I could get on with my morning devotions. He was not in a hurry but continued watchful waiting for the perfect strike. He rarely misses after his deliberate, diligent waits.
How often have I plunged into a situation before I was thoroughly prepared? There have been times when I grew impatient and moved forward when the time was not right. I have attempted to be in control when it would have been better to wait on God’s timing. The next time I become impatient or try to forge ahead even though it does not really seem right, I will remember the single, blue heron who calmly walks the shore.
A Lesson in Patience
Water to his knees. Tiptoeing silently along the shoreline. I watched, fascinated, by his endeavors. The blue heron stretched his long neck, stared at the calm water, and then moved on. With his head erect, he gazed further out into the dark lake. With extreme patience, he waded, walked, and looked with no rush at all.
My patience was short as I urged him to catch something so I could see the flash of movement when he snatched his prey. Then I could get on with my morning devotions. He was not in a hurry but continued watchful waiting for the perfect strike. He rarely misses after his deliberate, diligent waits.
How often have I plunged into a situation before I was thoroughly prepared? There have been times when I grew impatient and moved forward when the time was not right. I have attempted to be in control when it would have been better to wait on God’s timing. The next time I become impatient or try to forge ahead even though it does not really seem right, I will remember the single, blue heron who calmly walks the shore.
My patience was short as I urged him to catch something so I could see the flash of movement when he snatched his prey. Then I could get on with my morning devotions. He was not in a hurry but continued watchful waiting for the perfect strike. He rarely misses after his deliberate, diligent waits.
How often have I plunged into a situation before I was thoroughly prepared? There have been times when I grew impatient and moved forward when the time was not right. I have attempted to be in control when it would have been better to wait on God’s timing. The next time I become impatient or try to forge ahead even though it does not really seem right, I will remember the single, blue heron who calmly walks the shore.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Taking Risks
The family festival at a local farm was fun for Anne, Ashlyn, Emily, and me. First we picked strawberries from a large field sprinkled with red berries. After putting the berries in the car, we were ready for the girls to explore the various activities.
Because there was a fee for two rides, the girls had to pick one. Both girls decided to try the elephant since pony rides were more common. After waiting for several minutes, it was their turn to climb the high, wooden platform. Emily’s small legs had to stretch to reach each step, but she made it on her own. Ashlyn pulled herself up onto the elephant’s back, but Emily needed a lift. They straddled the huge animal’s back and grabbed the bar that partially enclosed them. The elephant plodded around the small area—plodded along by its trainer. When Anne poised the camera for pictures, the girls grinned. I saw no evidence of fear but only excitement.
On the obstacle course, they ran between poles, crossed tubes, and climbed fences. The only problem was when Emily got stuck at the top of the fence and did not know how to get down. She tried valiantly before asking for help.
During the hayride, Ashlyn declined sitting on my lap when the space was limited. Instead, she preferred to sit opposite us by herself. She calmly looked down at two snakes that were on the ground by her side of the wagon.
While on the swings, Emily kept wanting to go higher and higher. Previously, she had only wanted to move a little bit but was learning to swing herself.
Both girls ran to the zipline to wait their turn. Most in line were older boys but that did not deter the girls. From the high, wooden stand children had to grasp the handles which would take them to the end. A mother, who stood on the platform, helped each child get onto the apparatus before they zipped away. Her husband sent the handles back to her after the ride.
I held the handles so she could boost Ashlyn up. Away she went in a blur with Anne on the ground snapping pictures. Emily was so tiny that she had to be picked and held high so she could grab the handle with her teeny fingers. With trepidation, I watched her zoom down the line hanging high above the ground. At the end, a father caught her and lowered her to the ground. As fast as they could run, both girls returned to the line for another trip. I held my breath until the each finished but laughed at their enthusiasm and courage. I would not have depended on my own fingers to hold me as I flew many feet above the ground.
Every activity they tried required them to face fear and risk, but they did it with joy. I thought of the consequences of what could happen if they fell, but they only thought of the fun they would have. They had a delightful day filled with many pleasant memories instead of regrets for not trying.
Unfortunately, as adults we often think of all the risks which keeps us from experiencing the fullness of life. Of course, we do not want to be reckless but some risks are beneficial. Perhaps by taking a class, volunteering in the community, visiting a neighbor, starting a career, traveling to a different place, speaking before a group, writing a book, or attending church. Each person has specific fears and insecurities to be faced and overcome. Maybe the results won’t be what we desired, but at least, we will know that we tried. There may be wonderful surprises.
When I think of excuses for why I should not do something, I will remember Ashlyn and Emily hanging from the towering zipline with their little fingers holding on tightly while relishing the ride. If they can take risks joyfully, so can we.
Because there was a fee for two rides, the girls had to pick one. Both girls decided to try the elephant since pony rides were more common. After waiting for several minutes, it was their turn to climb the high, wooden platform. Emily’s small legs had to stretch to reach each step, but she made it on her own. Ashlyn pulled herself up onto the elephant’s back, but Emily needed a lift. They straddled the huge animal’s back and grabbed the bar that partially enclosed them. The elephant plodded around the small area—plodded along by its trainer. When Anne poised the camera for pictures, the girls grinned. I saw no evidence of fear but only excitement.
On the obstacle course, they ran between poles, crossed tubes, and climbed fences. The only problem was when Emily got stuck at the top of the fence and did not know how to get down. She tried valiantly before asking for help.
During the hayride, Ashlyn declined sitting on my lap when the space was limited. Instead, she preferred to sit opposite us by herself. She calmly looked down at two snakes that were on the ground by her side of the wagon.
While on the swings, Emily kept wanting to go higher and higher. Previously, she had only wanted to move a little bit but was learning to swing herself.
Both girls ran to the zipline to wait their turn. Most in line were older boys but that did not deter the girls. From the high, wooden stand children had to grasp the handles which would take them to the end. A mother, who stood on the platform, helped each child get onto the apparatus before they zipped away. Her husband sent the handles back to her after the ride.
I held the handles so she could boost Ashlyn up. Away she went in a blur with Anne on the ground snapping pictures. Emily was so tiny that she had to be picked and held high so she could grab the handle with her teeny fingers. With trepidation, I watched her zoom down the line hanging high above the ground. At the end, a father caught her and lowered her to the ground. As fast as they could run, both girls returned to the line for another trip. I held my breath until the each finished but laughed at their enthusiasm and courage. I would not have depended on my own fingers to hold me as I flew many feet above the ground.
Every activity they tried required them to face fear and risk, but they did it with joy. I thought of the consequences of what could happen if they fell, but they only thought of the fun they would have. They had a delightful day filled with many pleasant memories instead of regrets for not trying.
Unfortunately, as adults we often think of all the risks which keeps us from experiencing the fullness of life. Of course, we do not want to be reckless but some risks are beneficial. Perhaps by taking a class, volunteering in the community, visiting a neighbor, starting a career, traveling to a different place, speaking before a group, writing a book, or attending church. Each person has specific fears and insecurities to be faced and overcome. Maybe the results won’t be what we desired, but at least, we will know that we tried. There may be wonderful surprises.
When I think of excuses for why I should not do something, I will remember Ashlyn and Emily hanging from the towering zipline with their little fingers holding on tightly while relishing the ride. If they can take risks joyfully, so can we.
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