All I could make out was a blur of white object, which I assumed to be a colander, that was obviously muddy.
He was headed to the living room.
This never ends well.
I put down dishes and followed to investigate.
He had a pile of muddy rocks in a different colander sitting in the middle of the living room floor.
The muddy white colander was transporting newly discovered treasure to this stash.
"Why in the living room?" I (almost) yelled.
(I would give myself credit for keeping lent here, because though my voice was louder than typical speaking, it was more at the level of exclamation, rather than shouting.)
"Because, because, because they need to be in a new place."
"Why don't you make a new place -- outside?"
"ok"
...and off he trotted with his piles of rock back to the backyard.
Which, as I glanced out the back door I realized has turned into a disaster zone.
Longer days,
warmer weather,
spring is here and mud is going to be a part of my life for the next few months.
Mud, I think, is a form of meditation for kids.
I remember myself building out "rivers" for the rain and making dams along the way or forming mud pies or just drawing in the mud.
This mindless play felt a lot like what I feel when I walk the beach and stare down at all the random stuff that's washed ashore or when I hike and take time to breathe in the nature around me.
It is a holy and sacred decompressing. Letting the mind be gloriously empty and yet full of something close to gratitude.
Kids need this. With all the
homework
and structure
and screens
and expectations
placed on them,
a backyard full of mud is church.
A time to feel God's presence in the natural world
a time to tap into the creative nature that makes us in God's likeness
a time to feel gratitude for spring and warm weather
and to be at peace within themselves
content with who they are in this world.
I need to remember this when they track it in across my living room floor.
Dirty floors are a sign of some quality time spent with God.
No comments:
Post a Comment