I love my nephew Josh. Three years old with bright blond hair and two treacherous cowlicks swirling around the back of his head, creating constant spikey bed-head hair. His smile is like sunshine and he talks to everyone he sees. "Hi! How's it going?" He says this to the old ladies at the hardware store and anyone else who will listen.
Lately, I haven't been around very much, but when I do come through the door, his latest thing is to come give me a hug and then go run and tell my sister, "Mommy, Krista loves us!" Yep. He's right. I do!
Last night, I came home late, was super hungry and discouraged...until Josh busted onto the scene. He was hauling around his black winter boots that he loves to wear. He zipped them up and proudly said, "Krista, look at these boots. I love my boots. God made my boots!" His dad said, "God didn't make your boots, people did." And Josh vehemently said, "No, Dad, God made my boots for me!" I said, "Tell me how God made your boots, Josh". He said, "Welllllll, God made my boots in a factory just for me!".
Behind the smile and laughter I thought of how much I want to be like Josh. It's just enough to know that God is there. In a funny way, I think that Josh is right, God did make the boots. I mean, without God there's nothing. No world, No people, No black boots. I guess I'd like to exist more and more in the realm of having one thing certain. It would be this: GOD IS. And if God is, then I can stay there securely even when my own boots fall off.
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