A Weekend With A Six-Year-Old

(Abigail's view from her buggy-that she conned me into pushing her around in-doing her Elvis impersonation.)

I spent the weekend with a six year old. I’m home with my parents for a week and my older brother lives about an hour away so his baby girl came to spend the weekend with us. It was her turn in the grandchild rotation… My, my, six year olds have a lot of words to use up in a day. What’s that aunt Niecy? Why do you do that Aunt Niecy? Want to play hangman Aunt Niecy? Let’s play the alphabet game Aunt Niecy? Is this fun Aunt Niecy? Guess which song I’m whistling Aunt Niecy!

I discovered that shopping, for a six year old, isn’t that much fun, when you're not looking for them anyway, seeing as we had just left Belk where her Nana had bought her a dress, an outfit and a bathing suit. She informed me however, that this shopping adventure was b-o-r-i-n-g. She asked me when we were actually going to have fun. However, I was having a good time, because she was making it rather entertaining for me. She declared she needed to be pushed in the buggy. So I did. And from her staring back at me position, that you can see from her picture, she proceeded to enlighten me on the fact that she was more than willing to spend the entire week with me if I needed her to. (Even though she’s going home with me Saturday for a week.) She also informed me that she had been kissed by the neighbor boy, and that once her father found out told him, unless he had a ring and the money for the rehearsal dinner he better not kiss his baby girl again. (Apparently she didn’t know the kiss was coming.) And she also gave me one more hysterical Elvis impersonation.

I found her pretty interesting to watch too. The way she’d furrow her brow when you posed a question she found rather ridiculous. The way she lost all her sense of hearing when she was watching cartoons. The way she threw her head back and laughed wildly at the antics of my Shih Tzu Sophie. And when I dropped her off at vacation bible school she left me with a shrug of the shoulders, making it clear she would have much preferred crawling back in the car with me, just to go wherever.

I found myself missing the noise when I headed back to my parent's house. The endless musings on everything from the numbers on my dashboard to the yellow tweetie bird she found stuck between my car seats was all gone. I missed her whistling to. And her laugh. Man, that laugh will get you.

Can’t help but think about my heavenly Father. Can’t help but find myself amazed that God doesn’t wear out. I mean, I know I hound him enough for ten people. But with all of the people He has asking questions, offering opinions, singing praises, shouting accusations, I can’t help but wonder how He doesn’t just shut us all out for a while. Put up a “Do not Disturb” sign, for oh, a half a century. Or hang up an “Out to lunch” sign and head off for some manna and quail for a couple decades.

But for some reason He doesn’t. And not only does He not shut us out for a season, but He does the exact opposite. He invites us to seek Him and puts up road signs clearly pointing the way. He puts the doorknocker out there and says, “Go ahead. Take a whack. I’ll answer.” He hangs up the “Open for Business- First Million questions free”, and allows us the ever-present access to what is holy.

And if He hasn’t heard from us in a while, He misses us. So much so that He comes looking for us. Maybe we’re caught somewhere wounded. He picks us up, bandages the wound and carries us back home where we belong. Maybe He finds us lost. Directionless. Frustrated. He comes looking for those too. And He first asks us if we really want to be found. (Amazingly enough some don’t.) But if we say yes, He picks us up too and heads back in the direction of safety.

I have to say, I’m grateful I can’t wear Him out. Trust me, I’ve tried. Found it impossible. I’m also glad in the moments where I got myself in a pickle, found myself in a briar patch, or simply took some wrong turns, He came looking for me. And back to it we went. Living life together, while I bombarded Him with questions He’s been all to willing to answer.

I’ll make an eight-hour trip Saturday with a six-year old and a ten-year old. My twelve-year-old niece is going to hang out at home with her mom since she just came a couple weeks ago. I’m sure I’ll spend those eight hours dissecting most of life from the perspectives of young girls, still finding baby dolls worth holding and coloring books worth coloring in. I’ll get perpetual questions of “Are we there yet?” and “Can we stop so I can pee?” “

And I’m sure there will come a moment when I’ll say, “Why don’t you put a DVD in and stick your headphones on.” And that will afford me a couple hours of peace. And while I’m enjoying their silence and I’m listening to Rascal Flatts sing a song like “Every Day”, I’ll be grateful that “every day” He’s available. “Every hour” He’s got my back. And “every moment” He’s completely aware of where I am.