Tip of My Iceberg

Schools have begun in various iterations around the country. Virtual, face-to-face, and a hybrid with a little bit of both. The adjustments are much different from years past.

But when you’re two and a half, and this is the first day of school ever, it’s a whole new adventure.

Cousins Callum and Mason are only a few months apart, and they’ve enjoyed a fun and feisty relationship. Both are full of energy, both love to kick and throw anything round, and both are quite verbal.

Both began preschool this year–in the same class.

I told my daughters I wanted to be a fly on the wall as these two entered into the early hallowed halls of education. Not just to see how they did with a room of kids they could interact with. The overwhelming majority of which were boys.

I was curious about how the teacher would hold up after a day with these two.

The classes aren’t large; they’ve kept things small, contained, and safe. But I know my grands. They both have dimples and can charm their way into anyone’s heart with a smile and a laugh.

Cal and Mason enjoy each other. They’re at that age where they’re learning to play together rather than just playing side by side. Kicking a ball back and forth or throwing rocks into the pond is more fun doing it with a buddy.

What’s fun about these two, as with most children, is they’re curious about others who are different from them. New children, no matter what they look like, are potential playmates. The unfamiliar is not a problem. The adventure is with the unexpected.

We’ve been created for community, to be in relationship with one another. The beauty of that is we’re all different. No two people are alike; our stories mold us uniquely; the people and circumstances of our lives impact who we become.

What becomes problematic is when we insist on being with those who are only like us. When we limit our experiences to the familiar and comfortable, we don’t learn to value the adventure of the new and unusual.

God has taken great delight in designing people with differences. People reflect the diversity of God’s creative genius. The beauty of His totality. Like the largest box of Crayola crayons–120 different colors are found here, not to mention the special edition crayons created for certain seasons. It’s way more fun to color with all those choices than with a limited box of eight.

Many today are choosing a monochromatic lifestyle, where they reject those who don’t look, sound and act like them. They don’t want to listen to those who won’t parrot what they say.

The loss is in possibilities. We limit our collective IQ if we put such strong constraints on those we listen to.

I want to learn to take a page from the grands’ playbook. Be curious. Be willing to interact, to get to know others, without fear.

The more we open our lives to listen with respect, even if we don’t agree, the better chance we have of giving voice to our own thoughts and being heard.

Don’t limit God to one color.

You miss too much of His wonder and beauty.