RR balance beam 365/51 - #51- playing around

Compilation Sunday: That special time of the week when picture and prose become as one.


At its least, a photograph captures a moment in time, however grainy or blurry that moment might be. Sometimes, though, a single photograph can somehow magically grab more than a single frame of time. Sometimes a single photo manages to encapsulate an entire age and this particular shot captures the whimsy and lightheartedness that is childhood. To be a child is to look at the cold, hard steel of the tracks, as straight as columns on a spreadsheet, and see a balance beam inviting a gymnastics prodigy for a world-class routine.

I hope my kids don’t quickly lose sight of the balance beam in their lives. Adulthood is long and full of Responsibility and Work. I want them to play as if Time were on vacation. I want them to play dress-up with unabated ridiculousness. I want them to play “babies” all the way until they’ve got babies of their own. I want them to ride bicycles and scooters as if they’re racing childhood across the asphalt.

God gives each of us a little corner of our hearts that is the center of play. As kids, we’re hanging out in this room most of the time, celebrating the genuine joy of hide and seek and trucks and balls and dolls. As we grow this room in our hearts gets visited less and less often as we get mired in Duty and Responsibility. Every once in a while, by plan or by providence (as if there’s a difference) we make a quick trip to our own individual center of play and the journey is usually quite exhilarating, if not nostalgic.

One of the best days in the last decade happened on February 12, 2005. A group of about 10 ladies, including my wife, planned a surprise day trip to the coast for their husbands. Obviously they were so enthralled with us and our many genuine, romantic, loving, compassionate (did I mention humble?) nature that they wanted to treat us to a special day away. On the bus ride to the coast we did all kinds of adult things. We talked tax refunds and tax sheltered annuities. We drank alcohol and snacked on crackers and spinach dip. We played cards and gently ribbed each other the way that guys do.

But when we got to the beach, we dialed back the clock. We broke out the bat and ball and played a full-fledged coed game of whiffle ball, complete with running and diving and cheers and jeers, and we ran up and down the sand, playing ultimate Frisbee with delight. Granted, our bodies might have creaked and cracked a little more than in years gone by and our velocity wasn’t setting any land-speed records, but we simply played nonetheless. It brought us all back in time and made us realize the sheer exhilaration of play once again.

In short, play is recreation and to “recreate” is to once again revisit the Father’s ultimate act of blowing life into this world. Maybe that’s why it feels so invigorating to play and why as Jacie walks the balance beam in this picture, I hope she never runs out of track.