WHILE browsing through some old photos I came across these of simple chalk flowers. It's amazing how the image of something so plain can take you back in time, open many thoughts, and create significant desires deep in your chest somewhere. It's a wonder how a small child's creation can speak volumes to you when you have been so caught up in playing the adult! The images of some pastel colors on the sidewalk in your backyard, long worn away by months of rain and wind and feet, can bring such memories with them. Suddenly you hear the children's laughter. You feel the warmth of the spring sun. You see the slight shiver of your five-year-old as those last few chilly breezes weave through her skirted legs. You hear a dog barking across the yards, bikes whizzing down the alley, and the lawn mower of that over eager guy who just has to be the first to cut his lawn. A picture speaks a thousand words... and a million memories.

OH! To have the freedom to draw chalk flowers without care! Remember days such as these? Remember when your greatest concern for the afternoon was that your sister might smudge your chalk creation by stepping on it? Remember how slowly the hours strolled along on those spring days? You could take your time and pick out just the right color. You could crouch and contort your body to get into just the right position to make your design perfect - without care that your neighbor was laughing at your methods. You could live the moment rather than worry about sustaining an existence. An unexpected afternoon shower might wash away an hour of work. You might cry for a few minutes. But as soon as the walk was dry, you were right back at it and your loss was forgotten. You were resilient. You were free.

But it seems we have a tendency to complicate things as we get older. We rob ourselves of our own freedom by our worry, our fear, our laziness, our refusal to grow and adapt. It is true that Jesus said that we must be as little children before God. But there is a difference between being child-like and childish. Too many of us have remained childish in areas where we should have matured. We should have learned earlier. We should have acted sooner. We should have been men. But we insisted on being boys. At the same time we cast aside the child-like qualities in order to become "grown up." We soon grew out of our honesty. Humility and a teachable heart became weakness and stupidity. Wonder and awe were exchanged for pessimism and negativity. Hope and passion were sold for a few bucks so we could buy a beer and a nudie magazine. We thought we were becoming men. We only became insensitive to any beauty around us or in us.

What signs of beauty have we left upon our paths for others? Have we sketched with the pastels of kindness and compassion? Has love been the outline of all of our drawings along the way? Have we drawn images that will inspire those who come after us, creating a thirst within them for more quality in their lives? Or have we drawn base and obscene characters along our walk? Cheap cartoons with cruel captions to degrade and humiliate even those closest to us? Dare I mention the ones we drew in the blood of hatred? The ones that now may never wash away even under the torrent of a thousand storms of tears and apologies?

FRIENDS... We can go back! We can start again! Maybe we cannot erase all that we have drawn. Maybe we cannot scrub it all away. But while we are breathing we can continue down our walk and create new pictures. As men we can create scenes of depth and meaning. We can copy the simplicity of our children and paint lasting portraits of the meaningful things in life for them to follow. Remember when you practiced with the chalk. Stir up those skills. Get on your knees with the spring sun upon your back and draw. Draw! Draw! Blend your colors. Improve your strokes. You are an artist with a child inside of you. The child will inspire you. Be the man. Draw!

The little ones are watching.