April 9 – “Being a hebby attoon in a isgusting world”

You gotta love listening to little kids learning to develop speech and vocabulary skills.  Especially one as verbal as Noa has become.  Now, she’s not quite two yet, so she has a long way to go, but I suppose vying for attention in the midst of three older brothers has placed her on the fast track. 

She often joins me at my desk when the big guys are playing on the Wii or off chasing each other outside in some strange and wonderful game only big brothers can understand.  She’s not intrusive, by any means, and will often just stand next to me and take in the wondrous sights that surround DadDad’s desk.  Her latest discovery was the day she couldn’t hold back and started pointing and saying over and over, “Attoon.  Attoon.”  That one took me a second or two before I could refocus my eyes into a two-year-old’s perspective.  She was indicating the souvenir rubber otter I have perched atop an hourglass.  Once I realized that, it wasn’t such a far leap to put together what she was saying.  “Raccoon,” of course.

She also has two descriptive words that have become her favorites.  The newer of the two is “It’s hebby.”  That designates anything that is big, or even proportionally big, as well as most dangerous or perhaps most important.  In that sense she is actually using it in the best etymological way.  Value was often described in terms of weight in ancient societies.  Or maybe she’s just a throwback to the sixties when “That’s heavy” was a term for anything beyond understanding, or, depending on one’s level of intoxication, anything (That’s strictly an observation on my part, you understand.  I was always too afraid to try anything that might damage brain cells.  I didn’t have that many as it was).  At the baseball game the other night Christina set out three plastic dinosaurs.  Noa had an immediate evaluation.  Gently touching the T-Rex, she announced, “Iss one is hebby.”  Absolutely right.  Her other favorite word that she amazingly uses appropriately every time, although I don’t always agree with her assessments, is “isgusting.”  That’s right, “disgusting.”  You can imagine how often she gets to practice it in a house full of older brothers.  They have a knack for being “isgusting.” 

Maybe that attoon of mine has the right idea, perched atop that hourglass, completely above time, as it were.  It’s not easy being a hebby attoon in this isgusting world of ours.  Circumstances can sometimes get you down.  That’s when we need to crawl up on top of time – seek out the presence of Jesus – and see the world from his perspective.  Changes everything. 

Hebrews 12:2 says, “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Father, thank you for being above our circumstances.  Thank you even more for giving us access to your hebby perspective.  Makes ours a little less isgusting.  Amen.