She was about six-years-old and wearing red shorts with a short-sleeved white shirt…the front of her shirt was covered a rainbow bursting out of a giant heart.
It was like her heart was exploding with all the things that rainbows are to little girls…beauty, hope, promise, mystery…and let’s not forget that pot of gold.
That little girl had a big heart, was filled with ideas, and only knew her passions.
As she aged, the same heart and same rainbow were there. But the beauty, hope, promise and mystery exploding from her heart seemed a bit impractical, less relevant, and definitely naïve. Somehow it all seemed a bit clouded…and, strangely, even further away now that she should have been closer.
It was as if, year-after-year, little-by-little, the bigness of the rainbow was being stuffed back into her heart. Still present, but hidden from plain sight.
The thing about the bigness of a bursting rainbow is: it’s hard to stuff. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Ever. She couldn’t really keep it hidden from others. Curious and observant people could still see it.
But to the six-year-old little girl present in the body of the now 30-something, what she now knew to be beautiful, hope-filled, promise-filled, and intriguingly mysterious, overwhelmed her.
It was all she could think about, but nothing she could let herself do.
It wasn’t fear of failure. It wasn’t fear of judgment.
It was a question: could what is held in the idealistic heart of a six-year-old really be for life today?
One thing was for sure, all that was longing to explode once again wasn’t anything distance, impracticality, relevance or naïveté could take away.
It’s as if someone intentionally plants desires in young hearts with purpose – so that by the time brains are developed enough to talk the heart out of something, it’s already too deeply ingrained.
There is purity in purpose that comes from this place…I would know, I’m dying to find that shirt once again.