be a child about it

When I feel self-conscious about my short attention span, I’m going to try and be a child about it.

I’d like to allow myself to be easily redirected.

Optimally, children and adults alike will trust a loving corrector. They’ll heed gentle reminders and shift without shame.

I was feeling less than optimal today.

In prayer I confided my scattered brain. I told everything from the obnoxious draw of social media and my ridiculous vanity to my sorrow about a tourist boy who fell from a local waterfall and died yesterday.

I felt dumb for being distracted from an important errand.

Then I felt the gap between God’s goodness and mine. I saw the eternal gulf, eons greater than the divide between children and adults, that separates us.

My distraction from heavenly things felt more natural. Less shameful.

The boy fell from the waterfall into the hands of his Maker. He was trying to take a selfie, but I don’t think God would want him to feel dumb.

Humble is different that dumb.

I want to be a child about correction. I want to take the loving redo.