I am convinced that I knew the most when I was too young to realize that I knew it.

I long for the innocence of the scruffy-haired toddler, whose untainted blue eyes swallow his surroundings and his gaze can’t be broken until the stroller forces him to face a new direction. The complete lack of self-awareness evokes a green little monster to pop out of the woodwork. Pure, intense curiosity or the ability to take everything in as new drives me towards …. a blank slate.

Isaiah 64:8 "Yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand."

Lord, make me new… make me clean.