Joy Attmore on discovering the joys of childlikeness

Recently I've started colouring-in. At Christmas, my husband and I bought each other adult colouring-in books and a myriad of different pencils to fill the empty pictures.

I opened my book for maybe five minutes in the weeks that followed and turned two flowers from white to shades of red and yellow. Then we moved into a new apartment and the books and pencils were abandoned into a pile in the corner, placed out of reach as new and 'more important' tasks took a hold of our attention. When living in New York City, who has the time to colour in?!

A few days ago, I was walking to my lunch-time meeting feeling closer to irritable than lovely, so I began to talk to God. As I processed my surface frustrations and wants, I realised that I was in need of some Daddy time.

I've always known that I am a daughter, but there are very few times when I've actually felt like a daughter; like a child. But as I walked down Broadway in the wintry sunshine, that's exactly what I stepped into. I am a child who just needs some time with her Dad. It was one of those moments that drop into our lives, where something turns from merely head knowledge to heart revelation.

A couple of hours later and I was trotting back to our apartment. I was excited about the next few hours that I had free, to simply be with my Father God. We were going to colour-in together and for the rest of the afternoon I delighted in being like a child sat at my little table, now littered with coloured pencils and pens. I enjoyed one of the simplest forms of creativity: trying to colour within the lines.

That afternoon taught me so much about myself and also highlighted to me what is important and worth prioritising.

I may be an adult now with the roles of wife and self-employed writer; I may have plenty of responsibility and demands to be fulfilled, but in God's eyes I will always be His child. I will never be too big to be picked up and cuddled. I'm not a mother yet, but I imagine that this is how parents feel towards their children all of the time. We never outgrow the need and desire to spend time with our parents.

That same week I stood in a subway train, rattling my way downtown. I watched as a little boy gazed out of the window rapturously at the passing trains, lights, tunnels and stations. Every time he saw something new or exciting, he would turn around to his dad, grab him round the neck with his little chubby hand and exclaim, "Papi! Papi! Mirar! Mirar!" His dad would then oblige him by pressing his face up to the window and affirming every wonderful thing that we were passing by. I have never seen anyone enjoy so much beauty in a train journey before that trip. His little voice and cries stayed with me all day; the picture of his delighted face imprinted in my memory.

I've come to the realisation that that is still me. I may have matured to an age where I have taken on more responsibility and am looked to for input and leadership, but I am also still a child who gets excited by discovering the hidden world of train tunnels and finds life in spending her afternoon colouring-in art books and drinking tea. In the eyes of Heaven and eternity we are all still children.

So, in this simple discovery, I have decided to make room for it and to no longer apologise for allowing myself to be like a child.

Our society and culture in the West doesn't put much value in taking part in childlike activities as an adult. It's always communicating that there are more important and productive things to be doing. But I am now of the opinion that we need to be making more time for these things, creating room for our childlikeness to come out and play.

Maybe you need some colouring-in time with your Dad too.