Sometimes I really do just want to fly away to Neverland.
In 'the good old days' when we were children we'd spend a lot of time speculating about what we would do when we were 'all grown up.' When I was six years old and my older brother was ten we decided we were going to become inventors and change the world. Gravely we approached my father and asked him if we would be allowed to leave home early so we could get a head start on this.
About fifteen years later my older brother has graduated from college and I'm currently working towards that goal, and though the inventing of time machines isn't on the top of our priority list we are being called to utilize the great blessing of our education and change the world for Christ.
When I was eleven years old I wanted to become a writer. First, of course, I had to go out in the world to gather 'story material.' I chafed about the lack of opportunity. I didn't find the everyday occurrences of home quite right... they weren't L.M. Montgomery enough.
About ten years later I still haven't been very much 'out in the world', but I've been around enough to know that if you long for a life like something from Montgomery's life and you get it... well, those classic Anne of Green Gables scrapes don't feel quite so amusing when you're the one getting into them. (Though, yes, they still have the story-telling merit and can be very funny to look back on.)
When I was fifteen years old my closest girlfriends and I began to wonder very seriously what it would be like to be grown up, by which we meant to meet a boy and fall in love, to get married and to be mothers.
About six years later we're all 'that age', and all of a sudden those very dearest of friends don't talk about the vague shadowy figure of a man they hope to meet one day. They talk about a real live fellow that I've met, talked with, and come to accept as part of the scenery and part of the family.
None of this is bad. I think it's delicious in so many ways to be 'grown up.'
But, at the same time, childhood and the teens seemed to go by awfully fast. As good as the days might be now, I can't help but feel the sorrow of being unable to reclaim those past days. I don't think one of our merry band would trade, for instance, the real love of today for the wondering and dreaming of our teens, but still... wasn't it rather fun to dream, to wonder about the unknown, to realise that there was a whole world of beauty we had yet to encounter?
The bright side of it all is: there still is a whole world of beauty yet to be encountered. There still are wonders to look forward to. Just because we've caught up with the days that seemed so elusive to us as little ones doesn't mean that there's nothing left. There's ever so much more.
I do wish I could go back to my teenaged self and say: Dear thing, bask in the beauty of the present moment. Those mysteries of the future will be revealed to you soon enough, but the wonders of today will soon be beyond your grasp. Treasure every moment.
Instead I say to the self of today: Thank God for all the blessings of past days, for the blessings of the present, and don't be afraid of the future. You haven't quite finished growing up yet, even if you've passed some of those milestones you set along your road. Remember what C.S. Lewis said... there are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.
About fifteen years later my older brother has graduated from college and I'm currently working towards that goal, and though the inventing of time machines isn't on the top of our priority list we are being called to utilize the great blessing of our education and change the world for Christ.
When I was eleven years old I wanted to become a writer. First, of course, I had to go out in the world to gather 'story material.' I chafed about the lack of opportunity. I didn't find the everyday occurrences of home quite right... they weren't L.M. Montgomery enough.
About ten years later I still haven't been very much 'out in the world', but I've been around enough to know that if you long for a life like something from Montgomery's life and you get it... well, those classic Anne of Green Gables scrapes don't feel quite so amusing when you're the one getting into them. (Though, yes, they still have the story-telling merit and can be very funny to look back on.)
When I was fifteen years old my closest girlfriends and I began to wonder very seriously what it would be like to be grown up, by which we meant to meet a boy and fall in love, to get married and to be mothers.
About six years later we're all 'that age', and all of a sudden those very dearest of friends don't talk about the vague shadowy figure of a man they hope to meet one day. They talk about a real live fellow that I've met, talked with, and come to accept as part of the scenery and part of the family.
None of this is bad. I think it's delicious in so many ways to be 'grown up.'
But, at the same time, childhood and the teens seemed to go by awfully fast. As good as the days might be now, I can't help but feel the sorrow of being unable to reclaim those past days. I don't think one of our merry band would trade, for instance, the real love of today for the wondering and dreaming of our teens, but still... wasn't it rather fun to dream, to wonder about the unknown, to realise that there was a whole world of beauty we had yet to encounter?
The bright side of it all is: there still is a whole world of beauty yet to be encountered. There still are wonders to look forward to. Just because we've caught up with the days that seemed so elusive to us as little ones doesn't mean that there's nothing left. There's ever so much more.
I do wish I could go back to my teenaged self and say: Dear thing, bask in the beauty of the present moment. Those mysteries of the future will be revealed to you soon enough, but the wonders of today will soon be beyond your grasp. Treasure every moment.
Instead I say to the self of today: Thank God for all the blessings of past days, for the blessings of the present, and don't be afraid of the future. You haven't quite finished growing up yet, even if you've passed some of those milestones you set along your road. Remember what C.S. Lewis said... there are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.
Very nice post. I've shared it to facebook hoping certain youngsters might read it & take it to heart.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this! I will be ending my high school years this year and taking the next step in my life. At the mere age of 17 I know I have a lot to learn, and I get so caught up in things of the future, so thank you for reminder to bask in the present for the things of the future will come, but we cannot return to the present stage.
ReplyDeleteChildhood indeed is a whirlwind - I remember getting to my teenage years and feeling like - what just happened? Where did this body come from? I feel the most important thing with children is to not let them grow up too quickly. Keep their innocence as long as possible. I love the picture! You ladies look like you're playing London Bridges, am I right?
ReplyDeleteDear Clare,
ReplyDeleteThank you!! You're posts are constantly blessing me and quelling my fears! Your advice to yourself when you were 15 is advice I'm taking for myself (at 16)... I'm so worried about the future... And part of that worry comes from realizing I'm losing my childhood. I need to savor it, and enjoy it, because soon I'll have lost it. But at the same time, I'll have lost it to the blessed and wonderful opportunities God has in store for me. You keep my hopes up, and I often find myself at this blog, for words of inspiration that are helping me so much, in difficult times in my life.
Thank you thank you! God bless you, Clare, especially during your time of discovery in college. :)
~Liz B
What an awesome post.
ReplyDeleteHi Clare, I found your blog from Raewyn's blog, Blessed Among Men and came over to say hi! I'm loving the blogging world and the opportunity to meet Catholic women who are sharing their lives via blogosphere. I look forward to reading more of your posts. I'm not a very good writer but I enjoy sharing my stories. www.rosarymom.blogspot.com
ReplyDelete