Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?

So, my wife is out running an errand or two on this particular evening. It is my job to successfully wind down the day of our active four year old little, Harley.

After "just one more game" of Barbie and The Twelve Princesses, one final trip to go "potty", a piece of turkey (random), a drink of water, we settle into her little twin bed for book time and prayer time.

Prayer time seemed to go as usual, full of thanks, reminding ourselves just how good our God is, asking for "sweet dreams".

Book time took on a fun change, Harley wanted to read to me. She made her way to the bookshelf in her room, perused its contents and selected for us "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?"

You see Harley cannot read. After a year of preschool she is well on her way, but for now she simply cannot read. Yet she has been "reading" this one book in particular for well over a year now. We all know she is reciting the words of this book. She has taken them to memory.

Or so we thought.

"Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you see? I see a red bird looking at me. (page 1)
Red Bird, Red Bird, What do you see? I see a yellow duck looking at me. (page 2)
Yellow Duck, Yellow Duck, What do you see? I see a blue horse looking at me. (page 3)
Blue Horse, Blue Horse, What do you see? I see a green frog looking at me. (page 4)
Green Frog, Green Frog, What do you see? I see a purple cat looking at me. (page 5)
Purple Cat, Purple Cat, What do you see? I see a white dog looking at me. (page 6)
White Dog, White Dog, What do you see? I see a black sheep looking at me. (page 7)
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, What do you see? I see a goldfish looking at me. (page 8)
Goldfish, Goldfish, What do you see? I see a teacher looking at me. (page 9)
Teacher, Teacher, What do you see? I see children looking at me." (page 10)

Harley had realized that if she looked ahead to the picture on the next page, she would receive a queue, a prompt as to what the current page said. It was a series of prompt and queues, hints and clues. It wasn't until midway through the first of two readings that I noticed she would sneak a peak at the next page to receive her queue.

I laughed. Then I understood.

We must look into the future to understand the present.

We must look there to understand here.

We must contemplate then to understand now.

Life is a journey. Not to be achieved, but to be received. Not to be advanced, but to be embraced. And along this journey, we ask questions. I've quit looking for answers all the time.
I've started asking better questions.

As I realize I don't have it all pegged, nailed down, neat and tidy, that when I look to the next page, to the future for a prompt and a queue that the present becomes increasingly clear.

There is not a specific point or place of destination, but rather a horizon. I'm learning to move toward a horizon. I'm learning to quit asking, "Where are we headed?" AND started asking of myself, "What am I hoping for?"

Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you see?

Friends, Friends, What do you see?

Church, Church, What do you see?