With childlike faith

No, that’s not me above. This is a photo I got off of That Black Girl Site. But I promise I was just as adorable when I was that age.

I was such a happy child with no inhibitions or limits. As a child, I thought that skin color was just something that could be interchanged with a big bucket of long-lasting paint. Underneath it all, there was no difference being red, yellow, black or white. And girls could do anything boys could do, except pee standing up. There was nothing I could not one day do. 

After seeing Mary Lou Retton and Diane Durham perform when I was little, I decided that I wanted to start training with Bela Karolyi once I was eight and become the next gold-medal gymnast. My parents never discouraged me and instead fed my gymnastics dream. But once I reached age 8, I had moved on to some other big-time dream.

From a very young age, I was always told I could be whatever I wanted to be, including princess of the world. See, after one Thanksgiving, I beat my dad in that turkey wishbone thing (though I’m sure he let me win). He told me that the winner’s wish would come true. And so I believed that I was the princess of the world. But that tiara dream was crushed when all of my unloyal preschool subjects refused to heed my commands.

The thing is, as a child, I kept dreaming and believing that greatness would find me throughout my life. As a child, I never worried about growing up and having a career, husband, and family. I just had this faith that everything would always be provided.

I think that’s how God wants us to continue to be like even as adults. Yet, I find myself almost in constant worry as an adult, never possessing such childlike faith.

I’ve been thinking about childhood a lot in the last week. A few of my friends on Facebook have even started a group that focusses on going after your childhood dreams.

Lately I’ve found myself overwhelmed with the great job search—feeling inadequate in a society that too often defines us by what we do—and bombarded with inquiries into what I’m going to do next. I don’t know. I don’t know where to even truly begin.

Yet recent advice from a family member and a good family friend has really gotten me thinking. Maybe it’s just because I’ve been lacking such fatherly advice, but their words of love and encouragement meant a lot to me.

Listening to me talk about losing my job, my cousin (after thoroughly making sure everything was running right with my car) asked me what my ultimate dream for my life was. Without limits, what would make me the happiest, he asked.

I dream of having this comfortable suburban home filled with a doting husband and my adopted kids. I want to be a soccer mom that bakes cookies and cooks dinner on most nights. But I also want to have my own office to retreat to and write stories, articles, and movies from. And I want to travel. While I know the husband and kids stuff is out of my control now, there’s no reason why I couldn’t be doing the other stuff.

And then I shared with the guy that’s always been like a second father to me how nervous I am about my interview Monday for being an English instructor. He told me I was a natural. He said that he remembered way back when I was a little bitty thing how I’d play school with his son and my baby brother. 

Living in this so often cruel, impersonal world, it is always so comforting to find people to tell you they believe in you and encourage you to take on the world, just like you thought you could do when you were a child.