Playing Dress Up Again

Just like that, our oldest granddaughter had her third birthday.
In just a blink of an eye, we arrived here.
We all had stories about the day she was born.
We told her that we came to see her and held her at the hospital on her birthday.

She smiled.
She liked the thought of us being there.
She liked the thought that we held her and met her so quickly after she was born.
She has to rely on our stories and we are delighted to tell them.

My oldest daughter gave her niece an Elsa dress from the movie, Frozen.
My granddaughter has never seen either of the movies.
She does know the songs; however, since music is always playing in their house and  in their car.
There are two songs in particular that she enjoys.

My daughter allowed her little girl to see the music video of those two songs.
Even with only a few viewings, the movements and gestures of the character were copied.
My daughter realized this one day when the song came on.
My granddaughter danced around the room singing and pretending.

This sight is familiar to parents and grandparents.
Children love to pretend.
Children love to imitate.
It is our job, as the adults who love them, to carefully select what we put before their eyes.

Getting the Elsa dress, complete with shoes, wand, and tiara was very special.
The glass (plastic) slippers fit perfectly.
The other accessories were put aside, since the dress and shoes were enough.
Within minutes, we saw that glitter from the beautiful dress was everywhere.

No matter; a song had to be sung and a dance had to be performed.
I watched my granddaughter as she twirled.
I watched her pretending to go over to a window that wasn’t there.
All at once, it dawned on her that she had an audience.

I had the distinct impression that she would rather have been dancing and twirling by herself.
I understood because I used to do the same thing as a little girl.
I pantomimed songs, so that no one knew I was performing on my basement stage.
I never wanted an audience.

I had three daughters who would do similar things.
Different music, different costumes, but the same principle.
They pretended and entered their own little world.
I was on the outskirts of that world, and came in when invited.

I looked at my youngest daughter sitting on the floor watching her little niece.
It wasn’t that long ago that she was doing the same thing.
No long ago at all.
At least to my mother’s heart.

I thought of something I wrote many years ago when my youngest daughter was little.
I watched her all those years ago, much like I was watching my little granddaughter.
She had the same abandon; I had the same desire not to intrude on her play.
The next generation was before me.

I sit and watch my three year old daughter approach the box. She has done this a thousand times before. She will transform her world countless times and be everything from a princess to a clown just by reaching inside. She opens the lid and out comes the perfect hat, the old high heel shoes, the fancy gloves. She is off to tea with an impressive entourage of characters she chose from her shelf; a diverse group of Beanie Babies and baby dolls, but she doesn’t notice. I intrude on her play and she strolls over to me, falters really. “Look at me, Mommy, I’m all big!”

I tenderly pull her close and thank God, my Father, for the gift of this child, the gift of all my five children. I realize this is a glimpse of heaven. The shoes don’t fit, the hat is cocked crookedly on her head, the fancy gloves have fingers flapping, but she’s trying. “I’m all big.” I realize this scene must be so familiar to God. “Look at me, Lord, I’m all big. I’ve got this all figured out. I’m ready to wear this.”

How lovingly He must gaze at us. I picture Him with a tender, Fatherly smile. “Not yet, my little one, but you’ll grow into those shoes.” He must see us teetering and tottering on our spiritual high heels and find joy in our attempts, as He stretches out His hand when we stumble. We have opened the lid to our dress up box numerous times. We’ve pulled out pieces that just don’t fit, yet.

“Look, Lord. I’m all big.”
“You will be my child. Let Me take your hand and help you. Let me feed you with My food that will satisfy and nourish. Drink from My cup the refreshing Water that lives. Hold onto My hand as you grow into the likeness of My Son. My clothes will last, My child. I’ll give you garments of salvation and clothes of righteousness. You will grow in Me, My child.”

I help my little one clean up. We close the box as we put away the clothes that don’t fit, but for a moment, glimpses of another banquet fill my head. We, who are in Christ, will be dressed splendidly for our Host, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  (Playing Dress Up, written 1998)

Children must play and pretend.
We, who love them, must carefully direct their eyes and ears.
Their little hearts are at stake.
Dance away, little one; we who love you are right here.

 

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. (Philippians 4:8)