Happy Saturday! (what time are the cartoons on?)

 It is one of those mornings here in Ohio.  The spring air is still crisp, but it is warming. The birds still seem shocked that winter is gone.  And it is early enough in May that the abundance of green and pink and purple are almost un-nerving.  

There are other shocking things today, as there always seem to be.  Shootings here and everywhere. The wars continue.  Our political system seems in peril.  The entire world still feels broken in the way it did during the height of the pandemic, but it seems we have put a fresh coat of paint on the walls. Nothing to see here. 

A couple of doors down lives a family. They are not friends of ours. Only a handful of words exchanged over the years. They have a dog that long ago mastered escaping the yard, but I have not seen him in a long while. Come to think of it, have not heard his impossibly enthusiastic barking either. But this family does have a couple of kids. Who are, I confess, incredibly adorable. 

The older child is at this moment “mowing” his front yard with that toy mower that I think every child between three and six had at some point. Our coronation toy from the time we value the pomp and circumstance of doing grown up things. Of play. And of make-believe. His conviction in his actions are far more sincere than many of my own, even if the danger for the grass is more of being trampled than trimmed.  

Jesus is a man of instruction and guidance. Or at least those who wrote down his words wanted him to be. What those instructions were may come as a shock to some of his most ardent believers today. In fact, its fair to assume those folks don't bother to read the users agreements on their iPhones either.  

But one thing that is said, clearly, is for us to be more like Children in how we approach the world. To view ourselves and others with the eyes of wonder and amazement and faith is what I think that means. Or perhaps I missed out on many years of justification to put gum in my sister’s hair or use markers on the wall. Ehh, Im pretty sure its more the wonder part. 

I can not help consider that wonder, that faith, as I watch the little boy mow the lawn with all the conviction he can muster. And the joy. And the spirit so buoyant  I can feel it from two houses away. God bless his faith, which cares not for the calamities of the newspaper front page. 

Maybe he has the right idea after all. 

If you will excuse me, I think there are some cookies and chocolate milk in the kitchen somewhere.