Sometimes I Miss Those Days

I watched a playground full of small children play today and found myself reminiscing back to when Meagan and Forrest were in grade school.

As I watched the children play tug of war, I remembered fondly of the Field Days that my children’s school would have at the end of the school year. Field Day was a day when all of the students, teachers and quite a few of the parents, would get together in the school yard for friendly competitions, games, food and a whole lot of fun.

I can still see Meagan running and playing in her little school uniform with her ponytail flapping in the wind, laughing, giggling and playing…and me having a blast watching. I can still picture Forrest playing soccer, (he was always playing soccer), running as fast and hard as he can, red faced and sweating in the hot sun with a huge smile on his face. I am getting misty-eyed right now just thinking about it.

Sometimes I miss those days.

I think what I miss most about those days is the bond that I shared with my kids. The closeness we shared. I miss the hugs, the kisses, the laughing, the crying, the sharing.

They grow so quickly. Time flies by in an instant it seems. Those days are gone forever.

Now the pony-tailed little girl is a beautiful young lady in her junior year in college who I get to see a handful of times a year. And the red faced little boy with the grin from ear to ear, is now a handsome young man standing at the entrance to the bridge between high school and the rest of his life.

Once upon a time I was king in their world, I was “Daddy”, the all knowing one. The one who could fix and do anything. I was their protector, their comfort, the one who got to rock them to sleep at night. Alas, but no more.

Sometimes I miss those days.

Sometimes when I look at their faces, look into their eyes, I can almost catch a glimpse of that little girl wanting to hold my hand everywhere we go, and the little boy who loved to sit in my lap and watch baseball on television for hours. Every now and then I am still “Daddy”…and I love those fleeting moments.

Sometimes I miss those days.

I was thinking later in the day, how much I missed the day when I first became a Christian.

Everything was new, unspoiled, uncomplicated. We didn’t care who belonged to what church, or what denomination they were. Most of us had no idea who Calvin or Wesley was. All we knew was that something had happened. Something had changed. We looked at things with new eyes. Jesus had come into our lives and we were happy, content, oblivious to the warfare going on around us.

Sometimes I miss those days.

I miss the days of simple Christianity where right is right and wrong is wrong. I miss the days where we were happy, loved everyone and treated them with respect and dignity. Ah the naivety of our early Christian lives.

Sometimes I miss those days.


About Jimmy Eldridge

I am a husband, a father, a son, a brother and most of all, a follower of our most gracious savior Christ Jesus. Who are you following?

6 thoughts on “Sometimes I Miss Those Days

  1. i miss those days too. i accepted Christ in naivety – I had no idea what I was getting myself into. the Christian walk is hard stuff.

  2. i stopped being a christian a few years ago after my mother died and realised that it was all a fantasy.but i really miss that terrific hope and joy christian life is so empty with agnosticism.

  3. Rupert,

    I am sorry to hear about your mother. I don’t know what made you doubt your Christian faith.

    I would rather believe in Christ and have hope, than have no faith, and no hope.

    I will pray for you…sincerely pray for you.

    Wishing you all the best and God’s peace!

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