The movie “Jack” (1996) is the story of a kid who aged really fast. He’s played by a remarkable man who left too soon.
This film is a perfect vehicle for the antics of beloved Robin Williams. He’s basically a big kid, isn’t he?
I have a hard time saying those words because of a strange dichotomy I find in myself. The Bible simultaneously told me to become like a child and believe with the innocence and wonder of a child, unbridled by the doubt and skepticism of adulthood, while at the same time it said when I become an adult I must put away the things of a child and not think like a child.
I do not believe this is a contradiction, however.
Children can be very selfish. As we mature, selfishness is something we have to unlearn. Sadly, many of us don’t. At the same time, children can be very generous, having no sense of value, no indoctrination into hatred and prejudice, and often they have no thought of reward when they give.
I’ve been criticized because I’ve liked toys clear into adulthood. I hit the toy aisle every time I’m in a store. I’d take a Lego set over a 290-piece ratchet set any day. Sure, adulthood necessitates a ratchet set, but I’d prefer Lego. I’ve had to explain why I can watch a YouTuber play through a videogame but I have no interest in watching other people play football. I feel I have to defend myself when I purchase a thing simply because its design delights my sense of wonder and sparks my imagination. These are my opiates. My pastimes. I refuse to rate one over someone else’s or compare them to anyone else’s interests on any convoluted scale of maturity.
I believe one's maturity is demonstrated not in their interests but in their ability to maintain balance, keep priorities in order, and put others before themselves. My family is healthy, housed, fed, clothed, and I spend copious amounts of time and money on them. I wish I had more time with them but adulting requires me to make money to supply their needs and that requires toil and toil takes time. Call me a big kid if you want, but I can’t imagine why anyone would prefer to “adult” instead of actually enjoying themselves or time with their family. Granted, the “adulting” I had to do to create my family was mostly enjoyable and well worth it.
Douglas Adams wrote “…man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much – the wheel, New York, wars and so on – whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man—for precisely the same reasons.”
I’ve endured things I wouldn’t wish on anyone; child, adult, or otherwise. My children have had to grow up too fast in some respects due to the things they’ve had to endure. Even as they grow and mature with the natural ebb and flow of life, I miss their innocence that has been chipped away by a trying and perverse world. There’s a phase where they stop identifying through me and become their own persons. It is inevitable, of course, and a healthy process. Someday they’ll long for emotional reconnection with their parental units. I bide my time for now, and enjoy the moments I do get.
I feel the best way to prepare my children for this world in the meantime is to teach them how to balance work and rest and play and take care of what they have in the present, to take care of those around them, just as I have learned. And I try not to get too frustrated when they don’t immediately learn these lessons. They’re still kids after all. But the world and its problems can wait every once in a while as we delight in the distraction of a game, or a toy, or our art, or our music. In those moments we are, all of us, ageless. Past scars or future worries are not forgotten but understood amongst ourselves as we joyfully and safely exist in an ever present Now.
I don’t know the details of Robin Williams' vices and troubles. I do know the pain of loss and I know how difficult it is to cope sometimes. Robin’s daughter, Zelda, said this:
“Avoiding fear, sadness or anger is not the same thing as being happy. I live my sadness every day, but I don’t resent it anymore.” She continues, “The wonderful moments of joy I do find are not in order to forget, but to inhabit and enjoy for their own sake.”
No matter how old he looked or felt, the character of Jack enjoyed his life. I think he knew deep down how short it would be. Some of us may live 100 years. Our lives may be fraught with tribulation and strife. But regardless of how long we live and how terrible our troubles are, it’s too short a time to waste on excessive sorrow and grief. That resilient, playful child you once were wants to enjoy the moments while the moments are still forthcoming.
Robin Williams never made public the details of his visits to pediatric hospitals but posthumously an anonymous writer said this:
“His visits didn't cure illnesses or change medical outcomes. But they did something else. They gave a flicker of joy to the fading. They softened the hardest moments for grieving families. And they reminded everyone in the room, patients, parents, nurses, even Robin himself, that laughter still had power, even at the edge of goodbye. Sometimes, healing isn't about medicine. It's about making someone feel alive, even for a moment, when the world says they shouldn't.”
Some might consider Robin Williams to be just a big kid. Personally, I can think of no one more mature.
We were each a child at one time. That child is still here, still full of wonder and excitement, still seeking God’s face with awe. Hinder them not.
About the Author
Christopher has worked as a children’s pastor and youth leader for several years and has published countless humor articles under the pseudonym Professor Popinjay. He studied biblical history and child psychology through Burean University and various other educational institutions. He enjoys writing, art, and the history of invention. He lives with his amazing wife Jessie and their six bizarre children, one of whom is a cat..