I fell in love again today. Yes, that’s right, again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I have this perfectly good husband and I keep falling for these younger men.
His name is Connor. And he’s about three years old.
He came running full force at me and Lucy Mae today as we walked the neighborhood. When he got close, he stopped abruptly. Imagine a race car slamming on the brakes. Then he turned his gorgeous brown eyes on me. But it wasn’t me that he was interested in.
“Wook at da puppy,” he said, eyeing me shyly. “I want ta pet her.”
From the moment he opened his mouth, I was his. He had that not quite a baby, not quite a little boy voice. He was all honesty and energy, trust fired out of a cannon.
I picked Lucy up so he could get a closer look. Bending down, I invited him to stroke her fur. He approached cautiously, but soon was lost in the wonder that is a dog.
“Oh! Wook at ears!” He said, gently tugging on one. “Dey’re big!”
“They are a little big, aren’t they?” I was smitten.
“And what’re dese?” He asked, pointing at Lucy Mae’s cheeks.
“Why, those are her whiskers.”
“Are dose her whiskers?” He repeated everything I said, turning it around and around in his mind; his little brain making connections, labeling his world.
He studied her every feature, exclaiming over each new discovery.
“Do you see how her nose is a little squished?” I asked him, getting caught up in his exploration.
“Is her nose a wittle squished?”
“It is. That’s just how God made her.” I suddenly understood how wise my sweet friend Van is to use her dog to teach children about God.
“Um-Hmm, dat’s how God made her.”
I was touched by how readily he accepted this statement. I understood why Jesus said we must become like little children to enter the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 18:3).
Why do we question everything? Why don’t we trust?
Connor followed Lucy Mae and me down the street, ready to go anywhere with his new friends. I had to tell him a couple times that his daddy might miss him if he went too far (dad was working in the garage). Then we walked him back up to his driveway.
“We’re just going down to the bridge. We’ll be right back.”
“Will you be right back?”
That was all it took. He believed me. He took off like a torpedo, back to his daddy.
Lucy and I walked down to the creek and lingered a short while. She likes all the smells of the water life. When we started back up the street, I could see Connor waiting. When we got close, he charged at us like running to see a long lost friend.
“Wucy Mae!” He yelled from afar.
I had to fight every maternal instinct I have not to swoop him up and take him home with me. That’s not an easy fight, Dear Ones.
When it was time for us to leave, I had to promise that I would bring Lucy back to see him soon. He believed me. So I will.
I have been thinking about this beautiful boy ever since I left him. I sit here, Dearests, and wonder when it was I stopped believing in people. What was the precise moment that I stopped trusting? And I wonder, oh how I wonder, what would a life look like that trusts so openly?
My prayer tonight, Dear Ones, is that I can be more like Connor. I want to see the wonder in my world. I want to believe in people. I realize that this opens me up to be hurt. I realize that I am bound to suffer disappointment. But there will be times when my trust will be well placed. There will be times when there will be an amazing return. Those are the times I am living for.
I come to you like a little child, Lord. Make me like a little child.