She lay on my bed today. Curled against me as I read. She scratched my feet and tickled them. And I thought.
She's seven years old. A young lady. An older girl. Trapped between two worlds. Is she older? Or is she still a little girl.
Her mind is maturing. Handling words and sentences. She can think through a problem. Her body is maturing. She can run like the wind and climb as high as the sky.
And yet, she's still a baby. She cries when she misses her Mommy. She clings to her sisters like she'll never let go. She laughs with the innocence of knowing nothing evil in the world.
She looks at her older sisters. Can she handle what they handle? Surely not. One day she will. But, until then... let her be free and sweet.
She needs more days to run barefoot through the grass and catch grasshoppers. She needs more days to reach for the sun and feel it's out of grasp. She needs more days to climb to the roof and sing to the sky. More days to run through the rain. More days to curl up and sleep in the middle of the day.
She needs more days to run through the wind and laugh at the top of her lungs.
She needs more days to pretend she's 18.
She know that sin is in the world. She knows that sadness is lurking near. But, she needs the ability to run and laugh trusting that she is safe, protected, and loved.
She knows that she has family. A Mommy and a Daddy who would give their lives for her. And she know a baby was born in Bethlehem who died for her sins.
For now that is all she needs. The knowledge. One day all to soon, the little joys of a little girl will fade. She'll love her family and her Lord. But her faith will be tested. The tears will flow freer. More often.
Trust me. I know.