Let's Pretend

When I was little I used to check out wonderful records from the library. My favorite series was titled, Let’s Pretend. Oh how I loved those records!

I would put one on and stand in the middle of my room, ready to enter the story. The narrator would say something like, “Okay kids, are you ready to enter The Land of Let’s Pretend? There’s a towering wall in front of us and we’re going to have to jump as high as we can to get over it. One, two, three, jump!” I could see the wall in my mind. I’d jump as high as I could and imagine soaring over it into the courtyard. The sound of rushing wind and birdsong added to the make-believe. It really felt like I was going somewhere.

On a seemingly unrelated subject, my art studio doubles as an exercise room. I realized I needed to exercise more after illustrating my second book and finding that I could barely squeeze into my only fancy dress for the launch party. A result of sitting perfectly still for hours upon hours and eating too many cookies late at night.

So for the past few years I’ve been slowly acquiring exercise equipment—most recently, a water rower. Have you ever tried a water rower? I can only row a very unimpressive distance at an equally unimpressive speed. But when I turn off the overhead lights and leave only the cafe lights glowing, it reminds me of Let’s Pretend. The watery classical music of Carnival of the Animals, Aquarium, by Camille Saint-Saens plus the swishy sound of the rower makes me feel like I’m rowing past weeping willows and fireflies blinking along the shore. An old stone bridge is reflected in the water up ahead. It’s too bad my arms are so weak or I might see what’s beyond the bridge. Maybe someday…

I much prefer this kind of intentional use of imagination to the unintentional kind. Anxiety is accidental imagination bent in a gloomy direction. Comparison is largely based on imagination too and not at all helpful or hopeful. Have you ever thought about how often you use your imagination and what you use it for? Just this morning I was asking God to baptize my imagination—to train it toward Him and help me notice when it veers away. He is the source of endless, beautiful ideas. The Father of Lights.

Blessings to you as you continually turn your face toward Him. May He baptize your imagination and mine too.

~Amy