Pitiful, huh?
My idea of frolicking included playing, skipping, and pretty things. Me being me, I naturally thought of my shoes. While I was working at Lucinda’s I amassed quite a collection of some quite lovely and unique shoes. My plan was to go about my week in a different pair of fabulous shoes, often high-heals, each day. Letting my footwear dictate my frolicking. But after Saturday night not only was there no way I was going to try to walk in heals but I couldn’t even fit my swollen foot into them if I had wanted to. My frolicking plan had been foiled.
I found myself on the couch most of Monday and Tuesday with my foot elevated and under an ice pack wondering how in the world I could frolic when I couldn’t even walk. I tried to frolic in my heart, to make it like celebration week where even when things were not exactly celebratory I learned to take on that posture because of grace (by no means am I seeking to compare spraining my ankle to my grandfather’s death). Nonetheless I think I learned a similar lesson. My brilliant frolicking plan was based on the superficial and on what I could do. I had couched my ideas of frolicking in appearance and in my own strength. But, like celebration frolicking is not done in and of our selves. Frolicking can only truly be done in Christ.
As I reflected on this week I was reminded that God delights in His children. Not only is He the reason for our frolicking, but He frolics in us. What I found particularly amazing (and convicting) was that God used my own shallow perception of and plans for frolic week to show me this. Every day this week in the midst of scabbed knees, a bruised kankle, and a serious pouting face and general self-pitying attitude, I received genuine complements… two of them from total strangers. Even though I couldn’t ware my frolicking shoes God still frolicked in me and reminded me that in Him, humbled and barefoot I am lovely.
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