Column Post by Lakin Easterling
“You can think up some birds, that’s what you can do. You can think about yellow, you can think about blue…”
So begins my favorite Dr. Seuss book in the history of ever, Oh, the Thinks You Can Think! My mother bought it for me several years ago, when I was a child in a cloud-fluff bed. My room was sunny-sky blue, with a window the perfect height for kneeling, elbows resting on the sill. I had an alarm clock, brass and shrill with a little wind-up back. It had no purpose other than the fact that I wanted to be able to watch time pass.
One night, after all the brushing and cleaning and unclothing and re- clothing into softer coverings, after being tucked in and kissed, after nestling down, exhaling a satisfied sigh, I sat and watched that clock move for three hours. I wasn’t angry, upset, or sad. I just listened to the ticking and tocking, my thoughts finding their rhythm like a train on track, all gears shifting and sliding in unison.
I woke up the next morning not the least bit worse for wear, and happily told Mom about the previous night’s adventures in time-passing. She looked at me, brows high and eyes big, and asked me why on earth I’d do that for such a long time. I told her, “I just couldn’t stop thinking.”
It was shortly afterward that she gave me the book, that thinking book. I was so in love with it I carried it everywhere; hid it in my bag, underneath my school books and my pillow, next to my plate at the table. I would read it before bed, tracing the lines and imagining everything that was in that book, as if it was all in my room, right then.
I imagined even more than that.
There were no limits, no impossibilities. Everything was within my grasp.
Fast forward to now, and things haven’t changed much. The only thing that is different is my attitude about countless thoughts keeping me awake. Now, I’m aggravated. Annoyed, I toss and turn and can’t get comfortable, dreams plague me, things go bump in the night, and my deaf-sleep-turned-mommy-sleep wakes up at least eighty times.
My brain has no off switch. I get exhausted by myself. Even the creative, good parts.
But you know something?
That’s okay.
It’s okay if my thoughts keep thinking and walking left, walking right, swimming, flying, or turning different colors. It’s okay if my thoughts are too shy to come out for me to see clearly what they are.
Because Someone sees me, sees my imaginings, and encourages me to keep going.
“In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.”-Psalm 4:8 {ESV}
“So she called the name of the Lord who spoke to her, ‘You are a God of seeing,’ for she said, ‘Truly here I have seen him who looks after me.’”-Genesis 16:13 {ESV}
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Lakin Easterling is a wife, mother, writer, and avid reader. She spends her days chasing her toddler, Belle, and conversing with the elderly who are afflicted by Alzheimer’s disease or Dementia. She loves surprise coffee dates with her husband Luke, texting novels to her best friend, Laura Hyers, and being a college student. She dreams about being brave enough to get a tattoo, and believes in the healing power of a good cup of coffee. Her favorite nail polish is Sail Away by Milani. She blogs at http://threadingsymphonies.wordpress.com.
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