The child, the whisper

Last week, without prompting, our just-turned-four-years-old girl, Maria, recounted the Bible story she learned at preschool that day.  As she has maybe only once before shared with me a story from school, I was a bit surprised that she shared so easily on our bus ride home that day.

Then I realized her little girl voice was Jesus reminding me to be like Mary, not "Marker."  You see, she said, when Jesus came to Mary and Marker's house, Marker was busy cooking and cleaning.  But Mary, well, she was not busy, but was listening to Jesus.

Jesus does not need my doing.  No, He wants my face to be turned toward His. To be quiet and listen.

Again, I heard the Spirit whisper to me as I sat on the floor in front of the mirror with baby Anne.  She locked eyes with her reflection before her.  She reached out to touch her face.  She smiled and giggled.  She was learning who she is.

Become like a child, came the reminder.  Like Anne, look into my soul.  See myself.  Stop and gaze at the reflection without shying away from the person I see.  Smile at me, the one who reflects my Creator.  Find the beauty.

I cannot give myself away if I am ashamed of me, embarrassed at my reflection, afraid to be seen, even by my own eyes.

The voice, the face of a child.  What can I expect when I have five little souls constantly by my side?  Jesus is finding me.