The Legoland Convention

when i was little, right around the time my dad died, i had two imaginary friends, Cheenie and Keenie (i don't know for sure that i show you would spell their names, we never discussed it, but i sounded it out and that is what i have arrived at). they were very small, just smaller than my hand at that age, and they lived on a very small island that was approximately 45 km from my house, on the way to my grandparents house. they came to visit me everyday, and we would just play together. i still clearly remember the last day i "saw" them. they sailed away on a twig of a boat down the creek that was by my house, out into Francois Lake. i knew as they were leaving that i wouldn't see them again. and yet, two years later, or so, my grandparents convinced me into a boat (quite a feat) to go fishing, and i convinced them to stop at the very small island to see if we could find Cheenie and Keenie's house. we couldn't; they must have moved.


i was thinking about this the other day. and before you all write me off as being a little crazy, i have a couple of things to add. why did i have imaginary friends? i'm sure that an argument could be made about how, with my father having recently died, it was a coping mechanism, something created by me to fill a void in my life. i wouldn't argue against that. but i would be willing to point out similarities that we all, i believe, have, even now, to me as a 6 year old child playing with her imaginary friends. i think we all have people that we attribute imaginary qualities to, so we can "play" with them in our heads. we can have grand discussions or flirty encounters with these people we don't even know because we have this ability to give them qualities that we don't have any idea if they actually have. i think we also sometimes do this with our friends. we want so badly for them to be able to fill a spot in our lives that we allow them, in our heads, to be someone they aren't entirely. i'm not saying this is right, i'm just saying i think it happens.

and if i were to take it a step further i would say that we, or at least i, have done this with Jesus. i'm willing to admit plenty of times that i have given him attributes that are not his. there are times that i have an "imaginary saviour." and, whereas with people it is generally me trying to think the better of them, i usually try to think the worse of my Lord. i convince myself that he takes joy when i am disappointed, for example, and hardly let him be who he is. and while i see the danger in that, i sometimes forget the danger of deciding the cute guy i just met is also sweet and intelligent and, gasp, single, when i really have no idea about any of those things. or the danger planning a conversation with one of your friends too much before giving them the chance to have any input.

i think that quite often i am the object of people's misjudgment or projected ideas of who i am. it almost makes me feel like a victim sometimes. i can't live up to who many people believe me to be. i've had to realize who i am, from my perspective, from the Lord's perspective, then through my friends' perspectives, and not consider who my acquaintances think i am. it's been part of a recent "healthening" of me.

and if that all doesn't convince you i'm not crazy for having imaginary friends, i will pull out this card: i am a creative person who has always loved the arts. the fact that i had imaginary friends is proof positive that i have an active imagination. not crazy, creative.