Today I have the honor of presiding at a baby dedication
ceremony for some dear friends. Preparing for the ceremony has given me
occasion to reflect on the mysteries of family and faith.
A baby is born. She has no choice in the matter. Who will be
her father? Who will be her mother? She has no choice. But she receives what
has been given and somehow she learns and grows. Her instinct tells her, “Eat
and sleep.” Her body regulates itself—breath, digestion, heartbeat. She is born
with taste buds and toes, feelings and fingers.
All this, filled with wonder. And ignited by delight. We
snap pictures to capture all those moments of delight. The stories we tell are
filled with interest because delight is either threatened or fulfilled.
We are born to play. We do not have to be taught this. We
just do it. A mother sings a song while holding her child, just hours old. A
father hides behind peekaboo hands, exploding with surprise, eyes wide open,
inviting laughter.
There is a focus to all this play. Strangely, we concentrate
attention on toys or books or balls as a way of paying attention to each other.
We forget ourselves when we are engrossed in the fullest forms of play. We can
be different and together at the same time in it all.
We do this to choose relationship that was chosen for us. We
know that without this playing together we would be prone to drift away from
each other. Delight keeps us together. Who wants to come unglued from joy? No
one.
Joy fuels our faith in one another. The healthiest families
enjoy one another. They make play a habit.
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