It rained.

A lot

We have all been praying for rain and now our gardens were joyously watered…and MUDDY.

I visit my friend with her angelic blonde-haired boy and he excitedly gives me a tour outside the house of everything that I have seen countless times before.  With him though, it is always interesting and seeing it through his eyes, there is always something new to enjoy.

Ripe raspberries on the tree.

The pet-pig and pet-bunny’s cage.

The trampoline which I have jumped on countless times (Note: I am VERY unfit)

His mother and I have coffee like grown-ups tend to do.  Orderly, clean and planned.

Little Man is up and about though: still showing off his new toys and running around excitedly.

In due time, Little Man is quite covered in mud: Hands, feet, a smudge on his face.  Typically…Boy.

Then its time for me to leave though I am always sad to go away from this family and this Little Man who always brightens up any day…and even more so a sad day (as today was).

He charges at me for a hug and his mother puts out a hand to keep my clothes from being soiled by the oh-so-brown little hands.

BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER.

I would love to have a stain of proof on me, that this little one was part of my day.  The brown would be worn with pride at having his love and attention even for a short while. It would be a stamp of his approval…his love, acceptance and attention. He brings me peace and showers me with his joy.

And then I realise:

Why do I worry what I bring with me when I speak to God?

Why do I feel that I have to have the perfect mindset and words and actions to be acceptable to relate to Him?

What I feel for Little Man is astounding love and joy, and so his attire or his cleanliness does not matter a smidge.

So my smudges doesn’t bother Him a smidge.

He invites them…

Maybe He takes joy in the fact that in my moments of ineptitude I have the boldness to turn TO Him instead of away from Him.  The stain of mud on His hand where I boldly grabbed hold of it in my moment of weakness might bring Him joy for the fact that I go in search of help in the right place.

Just a thought…to me: a new-found truth