“I’m Just So Tired…”

I’m so tired today.

Just bein’ honest, here. I e-mail my wife off and on all day at work, and when I ask her how she’s feeling, it’s normally the same: “I’m just so tired, babe.”

When I spend time with my daughter, who is pregnant and a nurse, I ask her how she’s feeling. “Just tired, daddy,” she normally replies.

I speak with my mom several times a week, and her reply to the question is the same: “I’m just tired, Rob.

So many people are tired. I was thinking about this, and prayed, “Lord, what can I say to the people who are tired today?”

Oddly enough, I couldn’t find an answer which specifically dealt with that question, but kept running across funny pictures of my grandson. I thought, “That kid just makes me smile. He’s so full of life. I wish I had that kind of energy and life in me.

I could talk all day about the “weight of the world,” whether or not we’re in the end times, or the heavy, wet blanket all souls seem to be struggling under these days, but I’ll leave it for the theology majors.

Joshy on porchThus, since I can’t seem to find an answer to why we’re all so tired, or at least one which strikes me as interesting enough to write about, I thought I’d share with you a bit about what makes me smile. Yes, both my kids, my wife, and certain other members of my family make me laugh, but this blog is exclusively about my grandson, Joshua.

I call him, “Joshy.”

He doesn’t have to do anything to earn my smile. My heart smirks when I think about him. Thing is, and this isn’t raggin’ on him in the least, but he doesn’t care how tired I am. He doesn’t care how old I feel (see my last blog). He doesn’t care about the stress of my day. He cares about me. 

For the remainder of this blog, if you’re not really a kid person, or have none in your immediate vicinity, you can insert your favorite pet wherever I mention “child.”

Children are adorable little balls of energy, and we need to let them be themselves. It takes a lot to make them tired. And guess what? Someday they will be tired, just like us. But for now, let’s pull them up on our laps and tickle ’em. Let’s chase after them (even if we merely limp along behind them, crying, “Slow down!“).

It is my belief that when I get to Heaven, I’ll have the energy of a child. As it stands today, though, I’ll have to be content with opening my heart to the light and life of my grandson, and my granddaughter, who I’ll get to meet a week or two before Thanksgiving.

Joshy on porch with TreyTheir light, their life, their laughter, and my favorite quality: their goofiness. My kids and grandson seem to have it in spades.

I’ve witnessed adults shush a child until there’s no goofiness left. These people expect children to be miniature adults, but guess what? That ain’t gonna happen, jack.

They’ll tell them, “settle down,” “stop running,” “don’t be so loud” or “leave mama (or daddy or neenee or papa or meemaw or moomoo or vava) alone and go play in your room.” Adding, “shut the door, I’m watching my show.”

Pathetic.

No, we can’t let them make up their own rules as they go along. No, we can’t allow them to walk on us. Yes, we must set boundaries.

But get close to them, and you’ll discover their entire, remarkable and kooky nature screams the secret to happiness.

Just live. Don’t be afraid of it. Get off the dang couch, crawl out of your hole, that emotional cave, fashioned after a millennia of pain and stress, and live.

Joshy and me playingI don’t have the secret to boundless energy, but I’ve decided to surround myself with those who do.

Those like this little bugger here.

God bless him.

Joshy is four years old, and he just wants to play, and everything that entails.

You used to want the same thing. You may not recall, but long ago, before life beat you into submission, you used to run and play. You laughed and played freeze-tag and drank water from the garden hose and tied a towel around your neck as a cape to help you fly.

Yes, you did, you just don’t remember it.

Live today. That’s all I have to say. Just LIVE.

Children are a gift from God; they are his reward (Psalm 127:3).”

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