Grounded

I bring them here to run, and climb, and jump, and play.

Go! Get some energy out!

But maybe I’ve misinterpreted their needs.

They sit and dig, collecting sticks and acorns.

Maybe they don’t need to get it out, as much as they need to take it in.

The smell of grass, the warmth of the sun. The movement of the wind.

Dirt under fingernails, and pockets full of treasures.

Taking in the beauty of creation.
And being grounded
In the goodness of God.

Maybe,
Those are my needs too.

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