Quick update before I launch into this blog post... the redesign is not going well because I found a background I like but I can't get it to work... blah. Also, I LOVE A Tale of Two Cities and I think you should read it. It's not stuffy, it's great writing and the story is paced well so far. I'm making progress in becoming a dog person, thanks to the endearing little dogs we helped take care of until their owners got home. I still like big dogs better, but I think my relationship with the canine world is getting better. Australia is beautiful and we're still enjoying ourselves. Sometimes I still can't believe I'm here.
Now, back to the topic of the day...
Children are a wonder, both in the way you think I mean it and in the way that won't immediately enter your imaginings. I don't have to tell you that children are precious. You naturally clamor to snap candids of your 3 year old niece, Gloria River Anne Wellington instead of her father, Uncle Joe. News is instantly more tragic when it includes the injury of loss of a child. They see life in a way so untainted; they stop us in our tracks with keen perceptions of the people around them. There's a reason Jesus says "whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it." * They know things deeply that we have since forgotten.
Right about now, you should be reflecting on magical Christmases gone by, the way you felt when summer vacation started and the grand enigma that soapy wands produced multicolored bubbles that slowly floated on the wind before an untimely demise in prickly green summer grass. Kindly put those memories back in your dusty cardboard box so we can return to our regularly scheduled program.
We've just explored the first things you think of when I say that children are a wonder. You may not like the next words that register on your retina. That's OK. The second way that children are a wonder is the depth of undisguised, unadulterated evil they possess. I submit to you that all that clean slate view of childhood morality is a bunch of wishful thinking poppycock. We're not talking about the influence of role models, we'll cover that another day. You've seen this evil at work. Because I work with kids, I see it all the time.
A three year old girl on the fast track to high maintenance female throws an Academy Award-winning fit because her mom won't dote on her properly. This is not her heartfelt cry birthed from a human desire for love. She is not saying,"Mom, I need your love and support of my person-hood if I'm ever going to be an emotionally healthy four year old." What she is saying is, "I don't care that you're holding my infant brother, in fact, I don't really care about anything but myself and educating the world about my imminent reign as Queen of the Universe." She would probably throw in some choice four letter combinations if she knew them. Two toddlers are playing with toy cars. Blank Moral Slate #1 takes Blank Moral Slate #2's car and BMS #1 slugs BMS #2 straight in the face. Blank moral slate nothing.
It's not that children are more evil than any other type of human, they just haven't learned our own crafty trade yet. Instead of throwing an outright tantrum announcing our ascension to the throne, we just sigh and shake our heads as we discuss the woes of our planners. We can just barely squeeze in yoga between reading to the Blind Alaskan Fisherman Club and being treasurer for the Concerned Citizens for the Preservation of Siberian Parakeets Association. Upon a friendly suggestion of scaling back, we smile sadly and explain that they just couldn't do without us and we really love being able to do our part. Those poor Siberian Parakeets would have no advocate, and the fishermen wouldn't havesuffered through heard the entire Nicholas Sparks collection without us. Instead of wresting our co-worker's iPad2 away from them and receiving a blow to the nose, we just snub people who don't please us and share information given in confidence when it's to our advantage.
Yes, you and I are just as wicked as the 18 month old who holds a fistful of mashed potatoes, smiles beguilingly and then drops it on your newly mopped floor. We've just lived this way so long that we've cunningly developed ways of making it seem OK, or ignoring it altogether. Our evil is a much more civilized deception. We don't give people our honest opinions but hold a grudge against them for not being able to read our minds. (He should have known I wanted Mexican food tonight.) We formulate our responses or our one-up stories as we half-listen to a friend tell about their vacation. We constantly compare ourselves to others in an effort to find someone "inferior" to give ourselves worth.
So the world is evil. Great, Little Miss Sunshine, just made my day. Thanks. It was great to accompany my morning coffee with your cheery little blog.
Oh, dear friend, when is the night its coldest and darkest? It's just before a hesitant grey herald precedes the sun marching triumphantly and the darkness can't stand up to its laughter and warmth.
But since I try not to be so very long winded as I could be, just be assured that the sun will come out tomorrow, or as soon as I get a little time.
Very much love,
Little Miss Sunshine
*Mark 10:15b, ESV
Now, back to the topic of the day...
Children are a wonder, both in the way you think I mean it and in the way that won't immediately enter your imaginings. I don't have to tell you that children are precious. You naturally clamor to snap candids of your 3 year old niece, Gloria River Anne Wellington instead of her father, Uncle Joe. News is instantly more tragic when it includes the injury of loss of a child. They see life in a way so untainted; they stop us in our tracks with keen perceptions of the people around them. There's a reason Jesus says "whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it." * They know things deeply that we have since forgotten.
Right about now, you should be reflecting on magical Christmases gone by, the way you felt when summer vacation started and the grand enigma that soapy wands produced multicolored bubbles that slowly floated on the wind before an untimely demise in prickly green summer grass. Kindly put those memories back in your dusty cardboard box so we can return to our regularly scheduled program.
We've just explored the first things you think of when I say that children are a wonder. You may not like the next words that register on your retina. That's OK. The second way that children are a wonder is the depth of undisguised, unadulterated evil they possess. I submit to you that all that clean slate view of childhood morality is a bunch of wishful thinking poppycock. We're not talking about the influence of role models, we'll cover that another day. You've seen this evil at work. Because I work with kids, I see it all the time.
A three year old girl on the fast track to high maintenance female throws an Academy Award-winning fit because her mom won't dote on her properly. This is not her heartfelt cry birthed from a human desire for love. She is not saying,"Mom, I need your love and support of my person-hood if I'm ever going to be an emotionally healthy four year old." What she is saying is, "I don't care that you're holding my infant brother, in fact, I don't really care about anything but myself and educating the world about my imminent reign as Queen of the Universe." She would probably throw in some choice four letter combinations if she knew them. Two toddlers are playing with toy cars. Blank Moral Slate #1 takes Blank Moral Slate #2's car and BMS #1 slugs BMS #2 straight in the face. Blank moral slate nothing.
It's not that children are more evil than any other type of human, they just haven't learned our own crafty trade yet. Instead of throwing an outright tantrum announcing our ascension to the throne, we just sigh and shake our heads as we discuss the woes of our planners. We can just barely squeeze in yoga between reading to the Blind Alaskan Fisherman Club and being treasurer for the Concerned Citizens for the Preservation of Siberian Parakeets Association. Upon a friendly suggestion of scaling back, we smile sadly and explain that they just couldn't do without us and we really love being able to do our part. Those poor Siberian Parakeets would have no advocate, and the fishermen wouldn't have
Yes, you and I are just as wicked as the 18 month old who holds a fistful of mashed potatoes, smiles beguilingly and then drops it on your newly mopped floor. We've just lived this way so long that we've cunningly developed ways of making it seem OK, or ignoring it altogether. Our evil is a much more civilized deception. We don't give people our honest opinions but hold a grudge against them for not being able to read our minds. (He should have known I wanted Mexican food tonight.) We formulate our responses or our one-up stories as we half-listen to a friend tell about their vacation. We constantly compare ourselves to others in an effort to find someone "inferior" to give ourselves worth.
So the world is evil. Great, Little Miss Sunshine, just made my day. Thanks. It was great to accompany my morning coffee with your cheery little blog.
Oh, dear friend, when is the night its coldest and darkest? It's just before a hesitant grey herald precedes the sun marching triumphantly and the darkness can't stand up to its laughter and warmth.
But since I try not to be so very long winded as I could be, just be assured that the sun will come out tomorrow, or as soon as I get a little time.
Very much love,
Little Miss Sunshine
*Mark 10:15b, ESV
No comments:
Post a Comment