a sparkly wig and no blank canvasses

cleaning my room - cleaning the clutter, the old mail, the ticket stubs, random notes, cards, and old pictures, i came across some pictures from my childhood.

i was passionate. i dressed like punky brewster and insisted on wearing this sparkley wig my parents bought me at the fair. i walked into rooms of squabbeling children and sought peace. i marveled at the world. i was going to be the first woman president...and the first person to go their whole life without a singe cavity (although, i think that's probably been done before). i laughed. i played. i trusted that my friends would be my friends tomorrow and never wondered if they would betray or abandon me. when i was sad, i cried. when i wanted solitude, i curled up in my closet and talked to God. i was going to change the world---though, i didn't really know what needed to be changed yet - except that girls at private school shouldn't be forced to wear dresses to school, since they made the monkey bars impossible.

children are amazing. they aren't blank canvasses. they are complicated and complex people with stories and personalities in progress from day one. why do we treat them like blank canvasses? why do we try to paint mona lisa over punk brewster? why do we quiet their passion with rules? why do we attempt to worship without them? why are they in sunday morning classrooms to teach them how to worship when they already worship all the time and more whole-heartedly than most? why do we tythe 10% of our money without bringing 10% of the best coloring sheets children have done and dried out play dough teddy bears to the alter?

if i could only wear that sparkly wig today. if i could only trust my friends. if i could only fight for a better tomorrow regardless of how much i loved tolday. where did i go?

and forbid it, sweet saving Lord, that i ever stumble one of these little ones into becoming something other than the beatiful, worshippers and world-changers they are born to be.