Playfulness and Bruises

I love roughhousing. Plain and simple, I enjoy having a good time with people and goofing around. I love playgrounds, partaking in a good sports game, finding ways to laugh together and things to laugh about; anything that will make me smile or enjoy life will probably be a friend of mine. If there’s a pond nearby, I entertain the thought of pushing them in – not out of malice, but because I find the notion fun and enjoyable and I want them to laugh (yes, I know very few people would laugh if I pushed them in the pond. But in my head, they would, because, in my head, it’s fun). I really like playing around, and I want people to laugh.

Anyway, enough about my likes, and back to the point of this post.

A few weeks ago, N and I were walking through the park taking a study break on the most beautiful Saturday afternoon that had come this semester to date. We had both had a difficult week, and so we were goofing around and blowing off steam. He swung me over his shoulder, I squealed and howled with laughter and surprise, and when he put me down, an all-out poking war/tickle fight ensued as we walked.

At one point, he reached over to poke my side, I saw it coming, and I threw my arm up to protect myself. It backfired on me, and as his hand connected with my elbow (and I think I tripped at the same time), the forces pushed my elbow solidly into the top of my hip and I got the wind knocked out of me.

There was a lovely bruise on my side for two weeks, and it just went away today. For some reason, when I saw it was gone, I missed it a little.

“So you miss the remnants of his playfulness, but not mine?” I felt Jesus whisper to me. He said it sweetly and with a loving and playful smile, not condescendingly or to make me feel bad.

I chuckled, but then fell silent as I thought about it.

How many times recently has Jesus been playful with me or loved on me, and all I’ve done is throw up a barrier to protect myself? I’m starting to realize that it’s happened far too many times. I’m ready for the barriers to stop.

I have too many self-imposed bruises on my heart from the times when Jesus and I miscommunicated over something due to the fact that I had a wall up. My elbow was in the way, if you will. There have been many times when I’ve gone looking for something relaxing and fun and not listened to the way he would have me spend my time. Next thing I know, I’ve gotten to the end of my break and I’m more tired than before. Frustrated, I’ll ask him why, and he responds gently each time that I put my elbow in his way and wouldn’t let him tickle me and make me laugh.

I don’t want it to be like that.

His playfulness and joy should light up my life – they are everywhere.

The birds on the telephone wire outside my apartment have far too much fun. Sometimes I can see Jesus playing with them, tossing them around in his hands with care and affection, joining the male bird as he calls to his female, providing the bug that they’re going to take back to the nest. Jesus is everywhere.

I’ll go for a walk in the park and hear him whispering through the wind in the trees. I’ll see his face when the sunlight shines on mine. He’s always with me.

I’ll be riding my bike on campus and he’ll give me the sweetest and funniest image of him riding with me and racing me to my destination. I’ll take off after him, laughing, the wind rushing through my hair. He’s everywhere.

When I’m having anxiety, I’ll ask him where he is. He never fails to answer, either with a picture of him holding me or stroking my hair, or with sweet words that echo through my heart over and over, telling me I need to eat and that he’ll never let me go no matter how dizzy I become from a panic attack.

Sometimes I’m too exhausted about life to deal with deep things. In those moments, the fact that he loves on me by playing with me brings about a greater intimacy with and love for him than going to those deep things right then would have.

I’m not very good at it yet, but I want to get better at recognizing his playfulness for what it is and not throwing every defense up at it. I think it’s worth a few bruises along the way as I learn how to have fun with him.

Jesus, help me to do so. Oh, how I need you.