I was babysitting my four month old grandson yesterday, and he was intently observing me eat a scone. I told him, not long now and you will be able to eat scones, too. But when I said that, I realized something. He has no concept of ever being able to eat a scone himself.
To little Theo, life is static. What is now is forever. He has no concept of the fact that he will one day be able to sit unassisted, that he will learn to crawl and then walk, to eat and drink. He has no idea that he is destined to become one of us, a grown up. As far as he is concerned, he is just going to be this cute little lump that desires to do so much but whose strength and coordination aren’t quite up to the task yet.
This, of course, made me think of us. Or of me, anyway. I have recognized my own tendency to get stuck in time for ages now. How things are is how they will always be. But in fact, life is ever changing, and tomorrow we might be something, somewhere, that we would never have imagined. The one thing we can count on is that we won’t be exactly where we are today. We change. The world changes around us. With some intention, we can, should, always be moving forward, upward.
We forget that too often. I forget that. Just because I can only crawl today, that doesn’t mean that tomorrow I won’t be walking, or running, leaping, jumping, dancing.
Oh Lord, I hope so.