Forty Plus Miles

          The child plays, somewhere deep inside, within this fenced-in playground of an aged body he plays. The imaginative part of me creates games, dreams big, still hopes. The fencing of age may be up, the gate closed, but it hasn't stopped him. He plays and creates joy in what he has and I watch, reflecting inside.           Here I'm encouraged, not because my child-like nature remains, but because this creative part of me isn't restrained by time or age; he just has to be creative in a different way.            So we imagine, dream, "play" together as joy and fun happen, where this God-given blessing becomes awakening for me, one I'm grateful Jesus blesses me with. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be b...

            It cuts, slowly, grabbing at the walls of survival: facial hair that wouldn't be cut 'till now. Pulling painfully, at first, then it's gone: the moments of overcoming now overcome. It goes, little by little, as "the lawn" is "mowed" of hair that was shaved clean. Little by little it falls. Little by little I laugh inside, seeing how funny it would be if I went out in public with half my head shaved. The child-like nature in me laughs, then I finish, growing as the adult and the inner child create life together.               The child-like nature smiles at the creativity of a shaver made by a dreamer, smiles at the wordplay of "hooks" that came to him as the electric razor pulled painfully at thick facial hair; smiles because of creativity NOT pain found then. The adult in me smiles at responsibility done, a fresh weight of hair properly removed. They stand side by side inside, grateful for the opportunity...