The perspectives of my children routinely amaze me. Not just because they’re insightful – but because they force me to realize I’ve become [gulp] an adult. When did that happen? When did I begin viewing life more through grown-up eyes than with childlike wonder?
Earlier this week, Andy (now 7 years) grabbed the copy of “Discover Magazine” lying out and began reading. He then explained – in great detail – how the sun is at its hottest right now and is shooting out vast streams of hot plasma. In the course of the conversation, he asked how the sun causes our day and night. As I told him about the earth turning on its axis, about the moon reflecting the sun’s light so that we have some light even at night, and all the wonders of how our 24-hour cycle works, I said, “Isn’t that smart of God? He gave us light – just enough light – so we could see to work and then he turns the light off so we can rest.”
Then, as happens so often I should expect it by now, Andy burst forth with a bit of brilliance.
“Or enjoy it.”
“What?” I was pretty happily congratulating myself for explaining a scientific concept while incorporating our faith, so I missed his meaning.
“You said God gave us light so we can see to work. Maybe he gave us light just to enjoy it. Just to have fun with all the stuff He put on the planet.”
That thud, dear reader, was me coming back to earth.
Enjoyment. Pleasure. Fun. These aren’t evil. Allowing them to become a god is evil, of course. But a life of faith can also be a life of fun. I’d forgotten.
As the God of Fate would have it, the iPod switched to a new song just after my conversation with Andy. “The Great Adventure” by Steven Curtis Chapman. Funny, God. Very funny.