No matter how tired, overwhelmed, or downcast I may be, I always get a lift when I see my boys using their imaginations.
When they are playing this way, they are fully engaged and fully happy. It’s as if the imagination pulls a ripcord and their little selves start to expand, moving beyond boredom and sibling bickering. It’s witnessing freedom, pure and simple.
I’m grateful for these little glimpses into my boys’ imaginative lives. It’s not just because I love seeing them so happy. It’s because these moments of creative freedom remind me that the imagination is a gift from God, a gift we receive abundantly as kids. What happens to it as we grow up? Sometimes I think it rusts from lack of use, as pragmatism and fear take over.
And yet our imagination can help us write, draw, dance, engage with Christ in prayer, and envision a more just world. It has the power to change so much. I’m grateful for it, and for the two boys who, time and again, show me just how much fun it is to use it.