One day last week my nine-year-old friend told me that I’m predictable. Ok, I accept that. No one will ever accuse me of being impulsive or call me spontaneous. But sadly, when I hear the word predictable, I think “translation: boring, dull, stodgy.”
The next day, in the pouring rain, I ran back and forth the length of my driveway with my surrogate niece who’s three. Not bad for “Predictable Paula.” There’s something to be said for those times where we forget ourselves and get lost in the thrill of the moment. What I’ve found to be just as valuable are the times I do this with personal worship.