A young child trapped me in a game of peak-a-boo. The innocent eyes, playful smile, and twinkle in the eyes was an unspoken invitation. As the elevator slowly rose, the game was wonderful intoxicating! With gentle laughter and smiles all around, we said goodbye as the elevator doors closed.
With today’s dawn, I found myself reliving the experience. An endless stream of faces from peak-a-boo games in times past washed over my soul. Each memory and image was a gift of renewal and restoration. I often wonder what inspires a child to give without reservation and expectation of anything in return (except participation of course!). What I cannot deny is the impact each child has on me.
In the reflection of the way each child has touched my heart, I realize that I want to be in the same experience with Divinity. There are multiple elements which I rediscover as I look to play.
Divinity is always around me, if I am willing to look. There are moments when I cannot see the Divine, and yet, if I wait just a moment, Divinity is smiling and sharing the moment with me. The gaps feel like they will go on forever. In my waiting with anticipation, there is a surprising connection with Divinity appears. When I reflect, I realize time is always unexpectedly shorter than I imagined. Divinity in all her forms is always present, willing to assure, in the game even when it appears otherwise.
The connection with Divinity is intimately personal. This may sound creepy, but in my experience, it never has been that way. The personal connection is one of acceptance, inclusion, and care. I recognize it through the feelings I have in playing the game with a child. If I can feel this way, my sense of what Divinity feels for her children takes me beyond the immediate and into the definition of unconditional love.
In my unending divine game of peak-a-boo, “I said to myself, ‘Oh, he even sees me in the dark! At night I’m immersed in the light!’” (Psalm 139.11)
