Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Do you think they make kids just for us?
I have this thought that keeps returning.
A few years now, I've been wondering...
Do you think God designs our kids just for us?
Because if I tried to dream up a face that appealed to me more than the Dancer's, I couldn't.
And I know that she is not a classic beauty.
But in my eyes, she breaks the classic mold. She exceeds it.
Because my little elf, my little waif, my little woodland critter seems like she was designed to be irresistible to me.
The picture in my head plays out a little like this:
God looks at the Dancer and thinks about me and says, "Make the eyes a little bigger. No, bigger. A little more. And just a little more. And make the pouty lips a little fuller. A little more. No, a lot more. And shrink the chin. Smaller. No smaller. Trust me, Tapper will love it."
And the Cowgirl- it's hard to even describe what I see when I look at her.
My favorite thing to look at in the world is a golden wheat field. It always has been since I was a child. I was the kid who got disappointed when we finally made it to Colorado because I thought the mountains blocked the view of the fields. That is not an exaggeration.
When I look at the cowgirl, that is all I see. I see the yellow light of afternoon seeping through the wheat color of her hair and reflected in the gold of her skin. And then, just when I am almost speechless at the sight of her, God added freckles. Not any freckles. The clearest, tiniest freckles that ever fell across a little girl's nose. They look like stars twinkling on her face.
So I get it- my kids are not for everyone. Not everyone goes for the almost-human elf look or the wheatfield look, but I can't help but think that they were designed just for me.
The exact beautiful that I could appreciate.
Which is good.
It keeps me from killing them.
Because I think they are slowly killing me.
But if they really and truly took off a year of my life whenever I said, "You are taking off a year of my life!!!" then I would have checked out about sixteen years ago.
So I just realized something. Children are proof that you really can't die from stress. We would all be goners!