"It's a sin to kill a mockingbird"
There is no child in literature who reminds me of myself at the age of nine more than Scout Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird. I laugh to remember the tomboy, swearing, little girl I was. Dad used to read me the book, skipping parts, and making the story fun for kids. I loved it. I wasn't until I read the book again at the age of 14 I realized what it all was really about. A few months ago Racheal read the novel for the first time. When I asked her one word to describe it she thought for a second and said softly, "Innocent."
Innocence. Childish Inocence.
Sometimes I desire nothing but to be a child again, with no worries. But sometimes I like being grown up, I like overthinking, I like being older. There is still so much I have to learn though.
I know the next few months there will be much to learn. I've started my summer job and it's been quite nice. Next month I leave for my mission trip, which I am thrilled about. In july I return, just to have a few weeks to get settled before I move. Yes, Move. My orginal idea was to stay at home until I am married, but the past months have lead me in a new direction.
My brother and sister-in-law know a family who speaks fluent in 6 differnt lanuages, including two I am studying for missions. They have invited me to come live with them at their home in TN for a year to nanny their young children and have lanague lessons. I am leaving in early August. It was not what I thought I would be doing for my freshman year...ever. But right now college does not seem the right path. I am also studying online college and have been so I will continue that as much as I can in Tennessee.
Don't take me wrong--I am thrilled about the changes and the goodness God is doing in my life. Yet there is still this fear every morning when I wake up. Because this path I am taking is not what I ever dreamed of, but I know that this is God's will in my life.
Yet I want to crawl up in my daddy's lap and here him read Harper Lee's words about Mockingbirds.
To still have that innocent face. To not know better when I messed up. To have nothing to do all day but make puppet shows, keep ballons in the air, eat rasberries and count the rain on the window.
And then I realize this: When Christ calls us to be His children we are washed with his blood and our imperfections are made perfect. We again are made innocent.
Oh to be innocent as a child....
Pondered by Maya