Every once in a while, my twelve-year-old brother will make a comment about Arthur. We’ll be looking at his little toes or talking about his little mannerisms and Luke will say, “He’s like a human.”
After which, I gently-not-so-gently remind him that in fact, Arthur is a human. He’s just a little human.
But Luke has a point. This little bundle that grew inside my belly for 9 months is still a mystery. He is the unknown. Especially as a little baby bean in his first month of life. He can’t talk and doesn’t move like an adult human. He cries and cries. Sometimes we know why and sometimes we never figure it out.
The other night, Devon was holding Arthur and the little man was crying and crying. Devon did all the right things. He cuddled him, checked the diaper, burped him, and we tried to feed him. But still he sobbed. Devon pondered, “Do you think it hurts to grow? Do you think he’s sad because he’s starting to forget pre-Earth life?”
What a brave move. This little spirit made the choice to leave someplace warm and known to come here, gain a body, and join my family. As I watch him squirm and wiggle on a blanket on the floor, he seems frantic. It’s as if he’s saying, “I have to learn this stuff! I want to be good at it. This is so important.” He is trying so hard to learn. Besides moving his legs and arms, he stares intently at the walls, out the window, and in our faces, memorizing each line and color.
Are we this brave in our lives? Are we this brave as we learn?
Where is our verve? Where is our zest?
“Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.” Joshua 1:9
“But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves.” James 1:22
What am I doing to progress? Where am I improving? Where are my wide eyes and wonder? Where is my faith?
Maybe Luke is right. Maybe Arthur is not human, not the natural man, but rather a shining spirit loosely robed in mortal flesh, his purity peeking out and blinding us.