Fresh back from an extended Christmas vacation in sunny Florida, I'm relishing the fact that we're all healthy. Some of us even got a tan, yours truly excluded. The girls swam, KP had a full 10 days to relax, and I was able to come up for air after the whirlwind that the holidays always bring.
The trip gave us time to spend with both sets of parents. This was, for the most part, quite enjoyable. Through the gift giving, cooking, eating, and football watching, I realized that KP and I truly have our own family now. Through the years, we created a home and we run it and our lives differently than our parents. We both found humor in the subtle -and not so subtle- differences between us and those who gave us life. KP can't stand his parents blatant ignorance of expiration dates on food. My parents live in the middle of nowhere and you can't step outside for two minutes without getting locked out of the house. Generally, these things just make us laugh.
But in all the adjustments to each other there is something that kept the season bright, or rather two things: AP and MP. The joy that children bring to a holiday is undeniable. People tend to put their differences aside as they celebrate with the young. Part of it is surely the excitement, but another is their unshakeable faith in the unseen.
This weekend at church we took a look at Psalm 8. This song of praise has a verse right at the beginning that floored me. Verse 2 says: from the mouths of infants and nursing babes You have established strength (NASB). I saw this verse literally personified over the holidays in so many ways. Our youngest, now nearing 2, loves to pray. The moment we are all seated before a meal the smallest of the KPs is sitting calmly, hands clasped, ready to thank God for the bounty before us. It is so adorable that I found Kevin's not so religious parents excited for the dinner prayer every evening. MP allowed what could be an awkward situation (praying in the home of someone who doesn't practice such things) to become the norm, expected even.
When Jesus was teaching, his disciples attempted to keep the children who wanted to touch him at a distance. They saw no place for them there. Jesus saw otherwise, he was "indignant" (Mark 10:14 NIV). He knew the importance of the faith of a child. In fact, he spoke of our very salvation as tied to it.
Small children don't just think God loves them. They know it, in a way we as adults lose sight of. Sure, we can think of a long list of reasons why we lose it. Life happens, the world happens, hurt happens. But when anyone encounters a child's demonstrations of faith, their own faith is changed. God often uses small things to show His strength. Little people, little moments, little steps - this is where one will see God.
My favorite pose in yoga is the child's pose. A resting pose, it is the most comfortable position I've ever found for my earthly body. It stretches the right places and provides a place of peace. As I sat in it this morning, I realized how perfectly named it is. The pose, like a child's faith, just feels right.
Through the holidays, the time with family, and the break from the norm, my children reminded me to just accept the gift of God's son. Accept it fully, with abandon, and most of all with joy.
May we count our blessings all the way through 2012.