The other day I made a snow angel in the parking lot. It snowed here in Philly, and I just had to take that opportunity. It is freezing, and today it is -11 degrees Celsius. As much as I want to experience all of this, I can only stay a few minutes outside before running back in and not feeling any parts of my body.
I am not the most “in-charge” of my body kind of guy. I am somewhat clumsy and awkward in the way I move. Maybe self-conscious even. So it was difficult to get down in the snow and wiggle around. One thing I have been learning though, is to accept myself for who I am, even with all the “defects” that I have. But somehow, that doesn’t translate to me dealing with my kids. And I am realizing that the brokenness I have, I may already be transferring to them without me explicitly knowing I am doing it.
For example. My eldest daughter loves ballet and dancing. She took some classes, but she really just loves doing her own thing. She loves prancing and spinning. Twirling and turning. When she walks down the grocery aisle, she extends her arms and spins around. Sometimes hitting things, and also people. She doesn’t really look, and so also ends up tripping over things.
Not only in the grocery, but at home as well. She’ll step on my feet, or knock over some books. And my immediate reaction would be to get angry at her being clumsy. About how she should look around. Or sometimes even telling her to just walk “normally” instead of spinning around so much.
And that’s where I am wrong. She is expressing herself. Her happiness on what she sees. The love she feels. Maybe something she smells or remembers triggers this need to express herself, and so she spins. Dances. Twirls. And instead of getting angry, I should rejoice in that expression of hers. I should actually get out there and do some spins myself. Dance before God because of the goodness and love He shows us! Definitely nothing to be ashamed of. I have been a victim of the verse: “We played a dirge and you didn’t dance” (Mt 11:17), and it is heartbreaking.
I need to dance again. I need to rejoice when I hear the music from God’s love. I need to be more like my daughter. And clumsiness? Well…. Here’s my clumsy snow angel making. It runs in the family 🙂