The days seem so long.
Ironic because I often struggle with the “hurry up” syndrome.
I’ve been a “hurry up” mama for a long time (maybe since I’ve been a mom?) and I was encouraged in this beautiful blog post to take more time.
Well actually, when I woke up one Tuesday morning and came to find my parents had died, with no goodbye and no warning.
That is what encouraged me to take more time.
Everyone says it.
“The days are long. But the years are short.”
I’ve heard it a million times. But how many of us actually live our lives to reflect that reality?
I know I often don’t. Even after the horrific reality of June 12, 2012.
I’ve been trying and trying and trying.
And finally I’m finding a way. I’m finding a way to take more time.
To play with play dough, instead of just do other stuff while they are entertained.
To go on walks and collect flowers and leaves.
To make art out of every day stuff.
To rub backs and “write” letters and guess letters.
To push on the tire swing. For the hundredth time.
To sleep in a tent in the front yard.
(We only lasted an hour. The 400 degree heat and creepy noises were just too much.)
To read their favorite book. For the hundredth time.
To go outside and kick the soccer ball, instead of just watching from the window.
To bite my tongue and double-check my attitude and demonstrate patience, instead of just always preaching about it.
To say “I love you.” Just because I do.
To serve. Even when I get nothing back.
To teach them, instead of just doing it myself because it’s faster.
To put my phone down, and give them the attention they need.
To be truly present in their lives.
I could go on and on.
So many opportunities every day.
So many ways to take time.
To make memories.
To cherish and embrace the short time we are given.
“But I can’t,” you say.
“I’m so tired.”
“I’m so impatient.”
“I’m not present in my family’s life. And I don’t know how to be.”
“I’m at the end of my rope, on the brink of despair, and I don’t know how to move from it.”
I will pray for you today friend.
And I want to tell you that there is hope.
Hope that is found in the Lord.
But also hope that is found in healing our bodies.
Two weeks ago I was at the end of my rope, on the brink of despair, not knowing how to move from it.
And I found something to help me out of it.
“Two weeks? Really? You want me to believe something has helped you that much after only two weeks?”
I can understand that question.
And so check back with me in four weeks or six weeks or twelve weeks.
But I pray you don’t wait that long.
God heard my cries and He has given me a great gift.
I’m so thankful for the opportunity to heal my body.
Heal my mind.
And take more time with those I love.