You mean, there is more?

A few weeks ago when I was trying to help my pregnant daughter from going into premature labor, I took the kids one day to a local children's museum, so that she could get some well-needed rest. The kids had never been there, nor had I.  At almost-three and four years old, they had no idea such a place existed.  As we pulled into the small parking lot, the building itself looked rather dated and not too large.  "Well, it will give us something to do for an hour or two," I surmised.

The first thing that the kids saw upon entering was a large area filled with sand about 10-12 inches deep. There were trucks and buckets and shovels scattered around.  And about a dozen kids were playing.  I don't mean structured adult-driven planned activities, but playing.  Indeed, the adults stayed for the most part on the side deck, only looking up from time to time.

My grand kids couldn't take off their shoes fast enough.

Children came and went, but mine were content in filling up dump trucks, digging holes with big shovels, and playing on a pretend construction site.  And true to her Cleveland roots, when I asked my four-year-old granddaughter what she was doing, she replied, "Digging potholes!"

Even my plea to go eat the brown bag lunch we brought with us fell on reluctant ears.

Finally, I promised that we would return after we ate, if they wanted to.  "Oooooooo-kkkkkkkkkk," the little one said slowly, as if he was leaving the Promised Land.

We walked down a half flight of stairs to a small collection of tables where we could eat.  As I led him by the hand, Howie was most reluctant, shuffling his feet, until we arrived on the lower level, and there like a vision before him was a large platform with flowing water.  Children wearing raincoats were playing with boats and fishing poles with magnetic fish.

He couldn't eat fast enough.

After they had caught a variety of "sharks"and played in the streams cascading from one level to the next, their clothes were somewhat wet.  As it was a whopping 12 degrees outside, I knew that we were going to have to do something different for awhile until their clothes dried out a bit.

This time when I suggested we move on, their eyes grew even larger, "you mean, there is more?"

Another large area was set up as a play village.  There was a pretend bus to drive and ride, a kid-size car with seat belts, head lights, and even pretend "tools" to fix the "motor" under the hood. A small grocery store with empty boxes and plastic fruit and vegetables allowed the children to "shop" or imagine what it was like to be the cashier.  Another corner was set up as a hospital, complete with a row of large clear plastic boxes that looked incredibly like a newborn nursery.

It was like a whole new dimension of life had opened up before them.  The kids played for another two hours, moving from one delight to the next, deep in imagination.

And do I trust God enough
    to know
there is more?

How often do I acknowledge what God has done and then forget that He is still working.  Do I settle in one spot, neglecting what more God may be doing, unmindful of what more He can do?  Am I afraid to move on to something else?  Grumbling about where I am now?

Or follow God into yet another dimension of trusting Him?
Maybe even right where I am.

You mean, there is more?

Remember Who God is,
     Creator of heaven and earth,
     Master of the universe.

O LORD, open my eyes
         and open my heart
  to all that You have designed before me,
           all that You have placed around me.

Now to Him
     who by the power at work within you
is able
to do far more abundantly
than all we ask or think...

                       Ephesians 3.20

We've seen nothing yet!

What no eye has seen,
nor ear heard,
nor the heart of man conceived,
what God has prepared
             for those who love Him.

                         1 Corinthians 2. 9