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Made in His Image

Made in His Image

I tilted the bag upside down and watched as the potting soil tumbled into the large plastic container. As the mound of dirt grew higher, my children’s eyes grew wider.

My 14-month-old gasped in delight and my three-year-old began a dance not unlike the I’ve-really-gotta-go dance. Back and forth, left foot, right foot. The kind of dance that takes over when you can barely contain your excitement for what’s ahead.

I dropped a shovel and a few cups into the container and was nearly bowled over by the two little stallions chomping at their bits. I backed away and watched, amused, as they both sank their hands into the dirt and filled their tiny fists, letting it sift between their fingers, smiles plastered on their faces.

I settled onto our porch swing and leaned into the familiar, creaky rhythm. I pushed my phone to the side. And I watched.

Two children, crouched like monkeys, savoring the mysteries held within the plastic bin. Mix, pour, sift, rinse. Discover, explore, imagine, create. They worked side by side in silence, each lost in their own play world. Dirt under their fingernails, smeared on their arms, faces, and clothes. Complete messes.

Beautiful messes.

One phrase kept coming to mind: Made in his image.

When God formed man from the dust, is it possible He crouched with similar excitement? His eyes wild with anticipation, His hands forming, molding, creating? Was His face smeared with dust? Did He work in a concentrated silence broken only by occasional murmurings of “Yes, that’s it,” or “Just a bit more, almost done”?

As I absorbed this unstructured, unscripted moment, I couldn’t help but marvel at the way my children—and all people—are fearfully and wonderfully made. Not randomly, but very much on purpose, bearing the image of their Creator in a thousand tiny ways every day—if we’ll only have eyes to see it.

How easy it is to miss these moments. The to-do lists and stresses and demands vie for my attention, and too often I forget to simply enjoy my children and watch in wonder as they become who God is calling them to be.

Because if the heavens and mountains and oceans declare God’s glory, how much more do our children? They explore and discover and create and make messes because they can’t not do it. It’s who God created them—all of us—to be. Because we’re made in His image.

May I never look at my children and see inconvenience, difficulty, frustration, or annoyance. Rather, my prayer is that every time I look at them—as they discover, create, dance, yell, laugh, sing, and make messes—I’ll see a declaration of the beauty and goodness of our Creator.

Because that’s what we’re all created to do. To point one another to the One who made us. To be declarations, megaphones making known that there is One greater.

And my two little megaphones do a great job of that—dirty fingernails and all.

By: Mary Holloman works and writes for Greensboro Pregnancy Care Center and also serves in her local church’s college ministry. She and her husband have two cute kiddos that keep them busy and laughing. You can connect with Mary at www.allmyspringsblog.com or follow her on Instagram at @marytholloman.

Join us at www.just18summers.com for our parenting blog each Monday-Friday and for info about the Just 18 Summers novel.

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