Mud. Is there anything more fun for kids?
Across the street, some warehouses will eventually invade our country fields, but in the meantime, they're building a "green space" and giant berm that is supposed to block our view. To the kids, it's been an adventure. Giant construction machines fill our kitchen picture window daily.
We'll be in the middle of studying the Shang Dynasty when a child will pipe up, "Look, the excavator is stuck, and the dump truck is coming to the rescue!"
This weekend, we went rock climbing on the berm. Well, mud climbing. It smells a little like manure, but kids don't care. Mud under finger nails. Brown streaks on jeans. Dust in their hair.
It's pretty awesome.
I did this as a kid too. We went in the back fields where a quarry now sits and swam in a swampy mud hole. My mom just hosed us off outside.
What is it about dirt that is so fun for kids and so undesirable for adults? I tried to play a little in it, but after I fell and about smashed apart my hip, I became a strict observer.
Maybe kids remember that we're from dirt, and they're ok with it. But as adults, we don't like to think we're from dirt. Maybe we were fashioned from something more beautiful, like marble. Or granite, that is hard and unmoving. Maybe I've been made of something more modern, like plastic.
When my dirty three year old wanted me to carry him back to the house, I lifted him up and allowed his dirt to cover me. Because I love him.
Jesus got dirty for me, because He loves me.
When I get annoyed at the "beep beep beep" of the backing up machines, I'll use it to remind me of this truth.