Keep Me Little.

I need to be a lot more like my daughter, Sophia.
Not in her obsession with pink, although this time of year that's not half bad. But I could benefit in her ability to trust, her ability to see only good, to tune out and ignore the negative in life completely, to see joy in ALL things, to forgive with out a second thought or even a slight pause, to hug so hard you do not doubt for a second it's sincerity.  
She loves loudly. 

Mostly what I love is her clinging to innocence, which makes this momma freak out at the very thought that my baby is heading to that junior high next year. I know what she'll hear there, what she'll learn, what she'll see. I've got my other two girls fresh out of that stage, there is no rose colored glasses here. 
Sophia still loves her Barbies, she loves her dolls, I can overhear her sometimes still talking to her stuffed animals.  She still thinks the worst of swear words are shut up and Hell, even if the reference in being said means the actual location of well... Hell. ("No Sophia, your Pastor did not swear at you.") She thinks bad things on the Internet are pictures of spiders, (no I'm not kidding)...True story. 
 Yep, her world is still pretty, and quite naive.

She loves us to tuck her in at night, both Erik and I, together. We have a
routine still, (I know she is 11). We arrange her animals and pillows, Erik or
I will pray for her, then she wants us to sing her a song. Sometimes it's a
current church song, but mostly she likes me to sing the songs I used to sing as a little girl in church. Her favorite these days is one I have framed by her bed, "I Love to Tell The Story." 
Sometimes I'll just sing the chorus twice, but on other more relaxed nights I'll include the verses. Each night, with out fail, she squeezes her eyes tight and smiles so hard I think her face might split.
We talk about when she was a toddler and how she would have the same response to our routine way back when she was a baby. I've wondered at times why she smiles so much, and it dawned on me lately that I think she too is trying to hang on to that part of her childhood, remembering what it is to be little.
Tonight as we went in, she wasn't feeling well with an awful case of the stomach flu so she had Erik and I BOTH pray for her, and when we finished she whispered,"Sing to me."
An old song back from my childhood found its way to my lips, and I had wondered how it got there so fast. I sang out and her eyes squeezed tight, and a big smile lit up her little pale face. A cynical train of thoughts flashed through my mind, thoughts I hate to admit.
Wow she is cute, but needy.
Oh I bet she is the kid that ALWAYS raises her hand for prayer at kids' church.
Week after week.
Front and center.
She'll outgrow that....

As soon as those thoughts came in, other thoughts quickly countered with:

Wait, I want Sophia to have that heart that is wide open to God.
I hope she never loses wanting to be "needy" towards Him.
I hope she never gets tired of coming over and over back to her Savior.
I hope that part of her never gets "old."
I need to not let that part of ME get old.
Ouch.
We live in a cynical culture. I am cynical at times. I can't let that cynicism in,
especially when it comes to my relationship with God.
I want to be "naive" enough to trust fully the God that holds each of us. I
want to be "little" enough to know I can come over and over to Him with
anything, big or small. I want to remember I don't have to figure out
everything, but HE has it figured out. I want to keep a heart that is soft and pliable.
Nope, I don't want to let the spiritual part of me get "old."

This verse came once again to mind, Matthew 18:2-5 MSG
"For an answer Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the room, and said, “I’m telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you’re not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom."

The song that I sang to her, was one I hadn't heard for many years. It is simple and sweet. I can almost hear that little 7 year old Diane singing it over the grown 40 year old version of myself...

"Oh how He loves you and me.
Oh how He love you and me.
He gave his life
What more could he give?
Oh how He loves you,
Oh how He loves me.
Oh how he loves you and me"