Be Like Jacob: Life Lessons from a Spiderman-Loving Toddler

Sometimes life's most profound lessons come to us from those who haven't yet lived much of it. As I turn 36 today, I'm compelled to share one with you.

I was elated to spend a brilliant summer afternoon with my niece and nephew. Lucy, 6, was zooming
ahead on her big-girl bike, and Jacob, 2, was thrilled to be perched on his new Spiderman bike. He hasn't quite gotten the hang of pedaling, so I walked alongside, pulling him forward by the handlebars.

Partway down the sidewalk, Jake startled me by slamming on the brakes (something he really has gotten the hang of) and jumped off. "What are you doing, buddy?" I asked, figuring he was over this activity already, and I would soon be wheeling a Spiderman bike back up the hill. But Jake was far from done with the bike. Instead, he crouched down next to it, peering at it with an adorable, delighted smile.

"Das mah Spidey-bike, Tracy," he said, face full of pride. He stood up and pointed to the image of Spiderman on the seat. "Das mah Spidey!" He touched the hand grips, ran his fingers over a tire, and then bent down again to show me more bright colors and Spidey images on the sides. "You see dat? My Spidey!"

After a few more moments of taking it all in, Jake sighed into another huge, satisfied grin, and climbed back on his Spidey. 

We rounded a curve and were a few driveways down the next cul-de-sac when I felt the brakes jolt a second time. There was Jacob, once again beside his beloved Spidey, admiring and appreciating every inch. My heart filled with the wonder and delight beaming in his eyes.

Jacob's joyful ritual happened twice more before we made it back to my brother's house, who chuckled lovingly when I told him about our pitstops: "He loves that bike!" 

Driving home that evening, I couldn't shake the simple beauty of it all. Without knowing it, Jacob offered a profound, stunning image of how to live gratefully. So often, we just pedal along from one thing to the next. Personally, I don't find gratitude particularly easy. I tend to more readily dwell in anxiety, nostalgia, and criticism. But Jacob reminded me of the power of pausing with purpose from time to time, getting out of the driver's seat, and intentionally beholding the miracle of our lives. 

In his honor, I offer this birthday prayer.

God, my Beloved Creator and Ever-Present Companion,

On my birthday, I ask for the grace to be like Jacob. Fill me with the innate wisdom of my Spiderman-loving nephew. Where I've become jaded, invade me with a toddler's amusement and curiosity.

Inspire me to witness this wondrous life with delight, to notice and name all its exquisite features, to point out and run my fingers over all its unfathomable joys and gifts. 

Help me to do this along the way, not just on my birthday, to occasionally cut the constant motion and simply peer with pleasure at all you have created and given. 

Let my prayer of gratitude pour out constantly and sincerely, impossible to contain and utterly pure like Jake's innocent glee. Remind me to relish the journey.

Thank you, God, for 36 amazing years of life. On this birthday and beyond, help me to live my own jubilant version of "Das mah Spidey!" Amen.