Inspired by Inks Lake State Park, a place of natural beauty that’s withstood the test of time and change
Today, a memory came to mind. It was of the 2019 Christmas program in which my two youngest children, Henry and Georgia, performed at their preschool.
Georgia was a sheep, and Henry was dressed as an angel. I already assumed upon taking my seat that I would see a very different performance from 4 year-old Georgia than from 2 year-old Henry. This difference was apparent the moment they walked down the aisle toward the stage at the front of the sanctuary.
Georgia held her head high, looked for us, and then smiled excitedly when she saw us at the edge of our seats. Henry, on the other hand, walked very quickly with his head forward, staring at the back of the friend in front of him. He wouldn’t even look over at us despite how many times and how loudly we called his name.
As the program started, Georgia sang her lyrics loud and proud, checked to make sure we were recording her, and giggled with the little girl next to her. She excitedly encouraged everyone to “go tell it on the mountain”, and you could see that she had that joy, joy, joy down deep in her heart. She made her mom and dad very proud.
Then, there was Henry on the opposite side of the stage, looking more perplexed than I imagined possible for a 2 year-old. He stood there, staring off in the distance, with his hands at his sides, occasionally repeating the final word of a verse one second too late. He was the cutest little angel, but my poor baby just looked lost.
Then, something unexpected happened. All of his classmates started getting shy or nervous and left the stage to go sit by their teacher on the floor in the audience.
But Henry stayed.
He didn’t know a single hand motion and only mumbled about one out of every 10 lyrics, but he stayed. He stood there, all by himself, until the end… the only angel left on stage.
My husband and I wanted so badly to return Georgia’s gazes toward us for attention and pick out her sweet voice among all the loud, singing children, but we were in awe of Henry. We kept a phone pointed at Georgia, recording every second, but our eyes were glued to Henry. We waited in anxious anticipation to see if he would run off like his classmates or if he would suddenly start belting out lyrics he hadn’t practiced. But most of all, as we stared at him with huge smiles on our faces, we felt a sort of pride that didn’t seem to make sense.
I imagine God sees all of His children in this way. Some have been practicing their faith for many years. They know the verses; they can go through the motions by memory; and they are comfortable with all eyes on them at the table. These children are incredibly special and set an example for many who may be new to the faith.
However, some of His children are at that same table, sitting quietly, wondering what they’re supposed to say, what their next move should be. They’re intimidated by their new circle of friends who have that perfect memorized verse to share in a difficult conversation. They may even think about running away and not returning.
But they stay.
They sit at the table, possibly perplexed, but still standing firm in their faith. They’re just so pleased to finally be at that table. I think God looks at these particular children with a different kind of pride, watching and waiting to see that growth that He knows will come. He smiles down and can’t keep His eyes off of His child who will eventually read, practice, share, teach, and serve others in His name. In those early stages, though, the most important thing is that His child hasn’t run away. He or she welcomes God’s love and remains until the end, anticipating all the good that’s to come.
Yet to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God — children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
– John 1:12 NIV
I’d love to hear from you! What’s your favorite thing to do in the Texas Hill Country?