That In-Between Mess

I was comfortably ensconced in the hammock on the deck. The sun was setting behind the dramatic Koolaus on Oahu's windward side, and a cool breeze whispered of the night about the fall. Next to me, two nieces were taking turns running at the wall that hid the staircase behind it, grabbing the rail, and hanging on while I counted to see who could keep their feet off the ground longer. Their infectious giggles made it hard to keep the pace while I counted.

At one point, the game shifted from how long they could hold on to how high off the ground their feet dangled. Megan jumped, dropped, and sadly stated, “That was just an inch, wasn’t it.” So she tried again, launching herself with all her might and looking at me expectantly from her dangling position. 

“Sorry, 1 inch again,” I told her.

She dropped back further this time, squared her shoulders, and gave it another running leap with all her might.

“1 inch or 1 foot?” she asked.

I laughed. Those were her only options: 1 inch or 1 foot. There was no room for anything in between.

Don’t we all wish growth happened that way? Suddenly and in giant spurts, from one leap to the next without the painful process of having to develop muscles first or practice over and over again? We want to be better without having to become better. At least I do.

But of course, there are all the benefits of slow growth: the adjustment our arms need to make to pull us up higher, the learning our brains need to hold more information, the development of our emotions to be more empathetic, the stretching of our faith to trust God will prove himself faithful over and over again. We aren’t wired to jump over the in-between stuff, as much as we want to, and in the end we wouldn’t be who we are. It takes time to go from 1 inch to 2 to 3 to 4 all the way to 12. 

And that’s a good thing. It reminds us of God’s patience in expectations, of his confidence and desire even in our struggle and misstep. May I never grow weary in the slow process, as long as I’m persevering. ½ inch at a time.

Megan swinging on a vine