Three Feet off the Ground
Evan, a fine young man of five years was recently recognized for perfect attendance in Sunday School, ten consecutive Sunday’s. Quite an accomplishment in a world full of excuses and better things to do on a sunny weekend day! But church is very important and when the doors are open, Evan likes to be there.
One Sunday evening I had many little housekeeping and managerial chores to accomplish around the church, so Evan joined in to lighten my burden. His offering was tremendous. What he does, he does with great enthusiasm and to the best of his ability. Evan’s failure to help would not be his lack of willingness, only my inept ability to explain my expectations.
As the two of us got busy I learned much about Evan’s busy young life. For instance, Friday was payday for this miniature entrepreneur. Since I was the grown up in charge I couldn’t model such bad social behavior as to ask how much money Evan made, but my restraint wasn’t strong enough to keep from asking what he did to earn his wages. He answered with great austerity and southern drawl, “I’m the janitor of the whole place, you know, the shop and all.” Evan comes from a long line of farmers and he spends his days with his grandfather, a full time farmer. Evan is responsible for keeping the shop where granddad, uncles and assorted neighbors and friends gather to visit and toil, clean and free of grass, hay and other sundry soil.
I also learned that Evan knew who his kindergarten teacher would be come fall. He didn’t get the one he was hoping for, but he assured me that the one he got was really good, he knew he was going to learn a lot and he couldn’t wait to get started.
As we were making a run to the trash dumpster, Evan expressed his excitement for exiting a door he had never been through. He was impressed with the heating and air units, puddles, electrical boxes and conduits for wires and water. Going through this one door opened a Disney Land for Evan’s inquisitive and imaginative mind. As we were making our return back up the sidewalk, Evan drawled, “Oh, I get to make wishes.” I looked down to see a previously overlooked patch of dandelions that had gone to seed. Before I could spit out my objections concerning his perpetuation of ugly yellow weeds on our carefully groomed church lawn, windy Evan launched a stem full of seeds into the evening breeze. Suddenly his hope and optimism defused my frustration over the unwanted flora that would continue to flourish.
These moments caused me to remember the words of Jesus, “Anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” (Mark 10:15 NIV). This evening spent in the presence of a chatty, innocent child brought this verse into living color. Evan brought a body willing to work hard. He brought a fearless spirit willing to walk across an unknown threshold. He brought a mind willing to except a plan other than his own, and finally, he brought a heart that saw beauty and hope in something that we educated, mature folk find ugly and annoying.
I pride myself on maturity, knowledge and insight. Indeed, “I wasn’t born yesterday.” But I need to put the rose colored glasses back on and see the world from three feet off the ground. Evan’s life is good and I need what he’s got: Unlimited willingness, unflinching hope, unbiased expectation and unquestioning faith.