From The Quirky Files

It's a grey, rainy day here and I'm not feeling a blog post coming on, so here's one of my quirkier posts, one from June of 2006.

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“What day is it?"
It's today," squeaked Piglet.
My favorite day," said Pooh.” 
― A.A. Milne

Some adults I've known dearly miss their childhood. I guess on a couple levels I can understand that, but mostly, oh my... Any day of the week, I'll take adulthood.

You might laugh, but there are still times, even at 47, when it's evening and while watching tv, it hits me, "Just think! I can stay up as late as I want. Heck, I can stay awake all night if I feel like it." No one will gasp, "Debra Lynn! You should have been asleep hours ago!"

Or other times while standing in a supermarket aisle, I'll ponder, "How nice that I don't have to ask permission to buy a certain kind of cereal." (Nor must I buy or eat liver. Yick.)

It's wonderful that Tom and I can drive wherever we want and stay out really late. We have no curfew and no parents waiting, worrying, ready to ask, "Just where have you been?"

Tom and I can make our own choices, and if our parents disagree with those choices, we can choose them anyway (hopefully, our plans being ones God initiated).

We live in our own house, can do what we want to inside it, and can decorate the whole thing however we wish. No one will step through the door and tell us to take something down from the wall because it's not appropriate.

We play whatever kind of music we want within our house, for no one will say, "Turn down that awful noise up there!" (well, as long as it's not booming out from our windows, quaking the neighbors' houses). We can watch any movies and read any books we wish.

We can choose our own friends. No person ever takes us aside and whispers, "I wish you wouldn't hang around with ________." (Though in a couple cases, God has advised us to let go of friends who were negatively affecting our relationship with Him.)

And the amazing thing is that I can be an adult and simultaneously be creative and child-like at heart. I can still paint pictures, jump rope, have slumber parties, tea parties, too. I can still go camping, ride bikes, skip and climb... and play games in parks, rivers and swimming pools.

What I'm saying is that I love the freedom of adulthood and would never go back to the confines of childhood (which, no matter how idyllic your childhood, you would find quite hard to live under, should you Time Travel back there. Think about it.). 

And yes, there are people I miss from long ago, and yet-- when I open myself to new friends--it's amazing the dear, similarly-hearted souls God plucks out of the crowds for me.

While living freely in this Land of Adulthood, I have discovered that God is the perfect Parent for the parent... the adult... the grown-up child which populates this grown-up place. A place where freedom sweetens the waters of adulthood responsibility, such as the lemonade your grandmother once gave you on the hottest of summer afternoons.


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"Jesus said to him, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”   ...   Luke 9:62

"To everything there is a season, a time, a purpose under Heaven."   ... Ecclesiastes 3:1

“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.” 
― Eleanor Roosevelt

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Yesterday Tom and I watched our Netflixed disc of Body of Proof, the first three episodes. Another good show--yay!

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