Young Forever

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I imagine when God created us He was super excited with the stage of preadolescence and adolescence. When everything is funny. Everything. When boys bring crickets inside and stick them in the girls' desks. When girls spend forever in the bathroom preparing for a beauty contest. Or something. When boys repeat the same annoying behaviors over and over again. When girls play truth or dare. When boys spy on their older siblings. When a hill and a block of ice are more fun than board games. When the first person to fall asleep loses. When we only drank Kool-aid. When we could eat 5 servings of one meal. When we danced to the loud crazy music in our disc-man head phones. When lemonade stands were self-sustaining. When we'd belch the alphabet. When the simplest things somehow make the more complex things look lame. Sometimes I question whether or not we were made to grow out of that stage. I've been told it's time to grow up, but really, I don't think I have to. Ever. 


"Seize life! Eat bread with gusto, drink wine with a robust heart. Oh yes, God takes pleasure in your pleasure! Dress festively every morning. Don't skimp on colors and scarves. Relish life with the ones you love each and every day of your precarious life. Each day is God's gift. It's all you get in exchange for the hard work of staying alive. Make the most of each one! Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily! This is your last and only chance at it, for there's neither work to do nor thoughts to think in the company of the dead, where you're most certainly headed."  - Ecclesiastes 9:7-10 (Message)

When we wanted to color our hair crazy.

Or get a tattoo.

Or just be ridiculous.

Comments

  1. EMILY STARDecember 3, 2011 at 8:50 AM

    Love it!

    ReplyDelete
  2. AnthonyDecember 3, 2011 at 9:48 AM

    I totally agree. That's why I still play outside and get muddy. I think that when people lived to be 900 years old, they worried less about getting grown up.

    ps. if you ever get a tattoo, that would be an awesome one!

    ReplyDelete

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