“Teapot, and cups,” she chirps soprano. Little legs boasting petite amounts of chub lean against tiny chair, and she sets herself down gently. I push her up to the table, where she is hostess, I am company, and happiness overarches in canopy.
“Want sugar?” “Pour cream?” Unconscious Behaviour’s veil falls from its face; I mindlessly perform tea time rituals. She notices everything. She copies everything. She stirs just like me. She taps spoon twice on cup rim, just like me. I realize I am exposed.
Pleasure and horror intermingle: my habits and defaults and first reactions forge her perspective of what is normal. And I need help to be all I should be in this moment. This moment is all I have with her.
I teach her “cheers” before we drink our tea, raising miniature cups together to gently kiss before we press them to our lips.
And I look in her peerless blue eyes, right into her soul. She is exposed too, but she is not scared by it like I am. She knows only this reality. She lives in these moments, expecting nothing but what she is promised by parents, living blissful in parameters set by others.
“Let’s pretend.” Saucers are plates and dolls are babies and we eat cookies and salad and meat and whatever we like off our plates. We complement each other on the fare, smacking lips and approving with “Mmmm.” And the food is pretend: we sip and stir and stab air.
Another organza curtain lifts, revealing the reality behind the pretend. What is actual is that we are happy.
And why are we happy? Because we believe that we have been given all we need to be happy, in this moment.
Grace is for the moments, not for the months ahead; but for now.
We giggle and sing and dance, cooing and gurgling our delight: wellsprings of joy. We delight, not because we are delight-ful in ourselves, but because we are taken care of by One Who loves us. He, our Parent, watches over us. He always reacts correctly. He always does what is right. He always is in control.
And we are happy when we move beyond recognition of His authority, into delight under it.
Where God is Lord, then we are happy.
I pick her up and twirl, and do what comes naturally: I sing over her.
And He does the same, over us.
“The LORD your God . . . rejoices over you with singing.”
“Delight yourself in the LORD.”
P.S. Gentle reader, two links to share with your heart: one, to a conference for women meeting with women and leading them gently to the wonder to God's reality, learn more at shespeaks.comaholyexperience.com