Child-like Simplicity

“Hey Mista!”

Those are two words that I heard all last week from a sweet 4 year old named miss Molly Meyer; minus the “miss” part. Last week I helped with Vacation Bible School at my church; the 4 year olds was the group that I was with. I don’t know why but as a young kid I never liked Bible School. And I take that back, I do know why. As a kid I never wanted anything to do with God, nothing that even connected with Him, not until I was 13 1/2 anyway… that woul explain why I didn’t like VBS.

BUT, this week had been free-ing for me, in more ways than one. I spent a total of 20hours with 24 4year olds this week. I know some people may find that overwhelming or exhausting and possibly rightly so; but I found and find it refreshing. There’s something about that child-like simplicity that draws me in; it’s something that leaves me light-hearted. And I’m smiling now just thinking about it.

My Youth Pastor had told those of us who were from the Youth Group helping with VBS to connect with the kids, even if it was just one child in our group that we connected with. He told us that child would remember that connection – and that was one of the things he wanted from this week, second to learning more about Jesus. Unintentionally during this week I connected with one of those 24 like no one else. We have 3 pastors at our Church and Pastor Shawn’s daughter, Molly Meyer, had been in my group of the 4 year olds. I don’t know what it is but if I were a 4 year old I’d be pretty darn jealous if this girl wasn’t my best friend. She clung to me throughout the whole week; she literally would not let go of me. She’d either be in my arms being held, sitting on my lap, holding my hand, or holding onto my leg while we were both standing listening to what it was that we were suppossed to be doing next.

Miss Molly Meyer seemed to be quiet at first. I had briefly met her a few months before Vacation Bible School when I was at a friends house and her and her brothers were there as well. She seemed quiet and reserved, very soft spoken. I guess she can be quite deceiving. *grin* Because this week with every passing day it seemed that she became louder, sillier and even more expressive. She was the one who wouldn’t let go of me but yet I’d soon see her behind me as I turned around and she’d be telling me to watch how high she could go as she jumped into the air. She sat on the picnic table with me when it was play time and talked about flowers and how her daddy (Pastor Shawn) kills the “yellow flowers” (dandelions) so she warned me never to bring them to her house. *grin* As we were sitting there talking about those “flowers” another 4 year old sat beside us and Molly looked at him and said, “we’re talking about flowers, if you don’t want to listen then you can leave.” I don’t know if she meant for it to be said in a harsh way but after she said it she smiled so I figured she wasn’t trying to be mean… he left. *grin* I also felt completely blessed because I learned later this week that she must trust me an aweful lot; because she fell and skinned her knee and I was the person she wanted when she was hurt. I felt blessed.

One of my favorite things was the fact that she suddenly started saying “Hey Mista” (hey mister) out of no where. She’d hold my hand as we were walking and suddenly jump up and shout “Hey Mista! Teresa did you here heeya (hear) me that time?” As if I could say no?

(yes, I am rambling and bragging about a 4 year old girl.)

But, my favorite time during these past 5 days was when almost everyone had left the Church and very few of us were left there. The Meyer family was getting ready to leave and after talking with Kay (Molly’s Mom, Shawn’s wife) I bent down and asked Molly for a hug, it was the 4th one she had given me that day; although the other ones were by her choice. And then I said, “oh, but can I have just one more?” And she looked at me and shook her head with a sly smile on her face and said “nooo” and then quickly said “I’m just teasing!” and gave me a huge hug. She left my arms and began to walk away with her family and suddenly turned around and ran back to my arms and said “I want just one more!”

She made my week! :)

Sitting here now a part of me wonders what it was that made her cling to me like she did. I wonder what it is that drew her to me. One of the mornings of VBS she simply said to me, “I want to be just like you.” I kind of giggled at that but within seconds her words really hit me – what on earth would truly make her want to be “just like me?” It made me smile nonstop but its made me wonder as well – can one single life really have that much affect on someone elses. (remember, I’m an overthinker.) I’ve always been the one to be on Molly’s end, wanting to be like that person whose impacted my life; it feels odd being on the other end.

Maybe it is because I come from a big family and have 9 nieces and nephews that has led me to love this type of simplicity; maybe that has something to do with what has led me to love children the way I do. Or maybe I just long for the simplicity that they have and seem to hold onto so easily. I’m guessing it’s all of these reasons. I love children, I love their nature and their simplicity, their excitement and wonder.

This all tends to make me smile… child-like simplicity. Molly. It all makes me smile.

I’ll be sharing soon about the missions trip that I went on this week… seriously, look out for the blog entry “Empty Handed.”

Teresa

Isolation & Desperation

So, I’ve never thought my life as one to be blogworthy… but I still didn’t think that’d lead to me not writing for over 2 months! I’ve had countless people come up to me during the weeks and ask, “have you just stopped writing or what?” and I’ve had people leave comments on here asking me what’s happened. Seriously, I don’t know whats happened, it’s a sad fact though.

I’m not going to write a “where in the heck has Teresa been” blog. I’m not going to catch up with everything I’ve been doing, because honestly, I wouldn’t know where to begin… not that my life is hectic and blogworthy or anything. *grin*

I will not lie though, these past few weeks have been insane for me. I haven’t been busy, I haven’t began traveling for my speaking events, I haven’t been gone all day and only home to get some sleep. No, infact I’ve mostly sat in my room since May 22nd thinking about the thoughts that have swarmed my head and the heaviness that conviction can bring.

Truth be told, I’ve been struggling off and on with a sin since sometime in April, and since the end of May I’ve been hiding it (someone had known about it before then but thought that I had stopped struggling with it because I had led them on to believe so.) I think that is the very thing that has kept me from writing – when I write I can easily become an open book, and I didn’t want to allow my thoughts to completely spill out into these words here; so I stopped writing all together. The conviction became so unbearable that I stopped writing in my personal journal because I didn’t want to take the time to have to think about the sin long enough to write about what was going on. The conviction became so unbearably heavy that my past two weeks were filled with nights of not getting to bed until 7am and sleeping for the next 3hours because my nights were heavy, my heart was heavy. I got to the point where I completely felt unworthy to come before God in any way… so what did I do? I stopped spending time with God, I claimed to be sick so that I wouldn’t be driving to Church with the family on that Sunday morning.

After I began to get used to not having time with God during those 2 weeks I suddenly became desperate for it. God isn’t Someone you can easily run from… especially if you’re like me and you know that you actually want to be with Him but are just being stubborn and selfish… and sinful.

My isolation created desperation.

Isolating myself from God, from the Church, from loved ones around me were the very things I thought would make my conviction a lighter load – I hated the feeling of conviction, I don’t think we were created to like it though. But, those very things I did in hope to give myself a lighter load were the very things that led me to a place of desperation. It led me to a place of complete brokenness, complete weariness. It led me to a place where I could truthfully say “I am poor and needy.” (Psalm 86)

Last night and today those past few weeks have left me feeling that I have wasted time. That’s a burden like no other. In my (almost) 3 years of following Christ I have never gone so long without spending time with God; those few weeks felt like a life time. But that burden is real; the burden of feeling as if I had wasted time. The burden that leaves you questioning “what could I have been doing if I wasn’t in this sin?” Truth is I won’t know, and I probably wouldn’t want to know if I could.

The past few nights (when I’m most likely dealing with the heaviness of it all) kind of felt like the someone following Jesus who is right behind Him, trying to be steady in every step and then suddenly taking a fall, a trap placed right in front of me and instead of looking down and seeing the trap there, I fall right into it. Not only do I fall into it but I get up and out of the trap running to make my way closer to Jesus who is still leading me and then suddenly I look back and see that trap there again and run from Jesus to make my way back to that trap. And even when running toward the trap I keep looking back towards Jesus who has stopped, Who hasn’t continued to walk without me, but is waiting for me; walking toward me even though I’m too darn stubborn to get out of that trap.

The heavy-heartedness was real. Conviction was real. Regret was real. The pain was real. The sorrow was real. The disappointment was real. The wretched feeling was real. The feeling of unworthiness was real.

The light-heartedness of Jesus is real. The forgivness from Him is real. The joy He can give is real. The comfort in sorrow He can give is real. The worth He creates in us is real.
I am unworthy of the forgiveness He willingly gives me; but I want to be one who willingly accepts it. One who runs towards Him in complete desperation instead of allowing my feeling of unworthiness to win this. I’m running towards Him in complete desperation.