The first time

For some reason, the first time you do something in life is generally the most exciting. I remember the first time I rode a bike, for instance. I was so thrilled to be able to keep my balance without the training wheels on. And the best part was that I was only 16 years old! (Ok, maybe I was 5.) It’s a hoot to watch our adopted son Matthew try new things each day since practically everything is a “first.” (Picture is his first cheeseburger.)

On his first morning in America, I was up at 3:30 a.m. and he was up shortly after. I made us a big breakfast which we both scarfed down. It was early, but he wanted to go outside, so we did and ended up on the swings. At first he was tentative, and obviously had never been on a swing before. He didn’t even know how to kick his legs to make himself go. But when he felt the thrill of being pushed he shrieked with joy. He was so enamored by this strange new contraption and the way his stomach felt when he hit the apex and came back down. He started yelling and laughing (sorry neighbors!). It was such a kick.

Truth is, life gets a bit stuck when we don’t try new things. We need to get out of our comfort zones from time to time and allow ourselves to be stretched. We need to do things that create a certain fear in us a first, but then the thrill of doing something new and amazing. We need to allow God to lead us in this process so that these things are honoring to him. This is the way life was to be lived—the wide eyed look of a child experiencing something new and thrilling. It’s the giddy laughter of a boy on a swing set for the first time.