It was quiet in the house. Son in the office listening to an audio book. Myself taking a moment to sit and rest in the living room. Daughter upstairs being unusually still. She doesn’t actually sleep much during our sacred still space in the middle of the day, so I was curious to see if she was indeed asleep.
I crept up the stairs and found her lying flat on her stomach at the top of the stairs, breathing and sleeping deep.
There was something about the way she was laying there, as the sun filtered through the window and warmed her little spot, golden curls highlighted in the bright rays and softly falling across her face.
I lingered a moment and watched. Watched her breath. Looked at her small features and rosy skin. Things I couldn’t stop myself from doing when she had hardly been outside the womb a few days, but now it was harder to slow and just look.
Life speeds by so fast. There are so many things we can think about wanting to do or places we want to go, and so often, those things just end up passing us by. Or we can become so consumed in achieving our goals that what is already around us fades into the background and we forget what we already have.
I find myself wanting to be more present and more realistic. As mothers, we can feel pressed to prove our worth and the value of what we are accomplishing on a daily basis. It is so easy to look at our friends without children or those who continued with their careers or developing other hobbies and talents into something that seems so much more exciting than what we are doing. Or perhaps you are on the other side, waiting for those precious little ones to call your own, to nurture and care for and fulfill a deep longing in your own heart.
It is good to pursue your callings.
But oh dear mothers, how I wish I could look you in the eye and tell you that you are doing so much.
If there is a calling on your heart and it is the season, pursue it. But also,
soak in these warm sunshine filled moments.
Maybe right now they feel few and far apart,
but when they are there, grasp them for just a little while longer before they fade.
I remember reading in a gardening book about waiting a full season in a new house before planting your garden. During this time, record how the sun falls, the water drains, the vegetation grows so you can be the most prepared when you finally begin to lay seed into the ground.
Maybe we need to do this more with our children. Watching and paying attention to who they are and then carefully considering what seeds we will plant in their lives.
Some times we simply have to linger longer and wait, faithfully, consistently, lovingly.
stop our feet for a moment or two