When Aub was about 18 months old, we started going to a little Wednesday afternoon playgroup. From this little group our Mother’s Morning Out program began. Aub had a friend she met there, Kayla. Little Miss Kayla’s Mama worked as a church secretary part-time at the church across the street from ours. Occasionally, if her Mama had to work later, I would take Kayla home after our program ended. Those two little blonde-headed girls had so much fun playing and giggling together, and after lunch we would all climb up in my bed and take a nap together.
One day we were driving home, and we saw a rainbow up ahead. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
Suddenly from the backseat there came a loud and enthusiastic shout. “Look at that rainbow. Good job, God!”
It was Kayla, bless that sweet girl. She saw God’s artwork in front of her and couldn’t help but share her approval.
That became a part of our family jargon after that. Looking for the artistic stylings of our creative Creator and giving two thumbs up. Like a purple field of flowers or the river of birds that fly over us on their way somewhere in late winter. I’m reminded of the artist who said that each of us has an artist inside of us because we are created in the image of a Creator. When we see it, we can appreciate it, because we are artists too. Even if just a little bit.
I was reminded of Kayla and her precious praises tonight as we drove to Evening Prayer. Driving into the sunset, and what a glorious one it was. Even the littles stopped their playing in the backseat and said, “Oh wow.” I smiled and whispered, “Good job, God!”
Then as we were leaving Evening Prayer, the sky gave its benediction.
Tonight I’m thankful for that precious little girl all those many years ago who taught me to look for, appreciate, and praise the beauty in the world around me. I am thankful for a beautiful welcome and sending out from Evening Prayer tonight. The challenge, of course, is to look for the beauty in the gray clouds as well as fiery pink and orange ones–to marvel at a dark, cloudy night as well as one filled with magical moonlight. I’m not always good at it, but more and more, I am learning to look at the world, its places and people, different and similar, foreign and strange and familiar, and say, “Good job, God!” If we could do that about all kinds of days and nights and folks that walk this earth, imagine what we could make happen in this world. Just imagine. Kind of takes your breath away, doesn’t it?