come

The invitation. Come. See.

It is more than a desire to share what is waiting to be shown, it is a request from a place of deep need. Come. Be with me. Show me that you care. Tell me that I matter. Come, come and be with me.

I go. She shows. She smiles. My heart smiles back, as well as my lips. That is it. It only takes a moment, usually no longer.

Just a moment. These are the words I say to my children all too often. But when I finally turn around ready, they are gone. That moment, the opportunity to speak so much more clearly than do words as to the worth of my children's souls - gone. I missed it. I miss many of them. How much more effort and time would it take to just go - drop what I'm doing and go? So much less than the heartache that follows neglected moments. So, I tell myself, go... go when they ask, the first time they ask. That will never be regretted - only cherished.

I pray daily that my children will feel my love. How much more likely are they to feel that love through the things I do, the time that I offer, than that of mere words. All too often I offer lip service, terms of endearment. They, sincere and heartfelt, can accompany my actions, but they are certainly not nourishment enough to fill that vessel that is a child's soul. The invitation of come must be accepted when delivered, otherwise we will miss the occasion of touching spirit to spirit with our children.

living with less

It begins here... in the hub of the home. Where everything seems to float in and out, but always returns to gather. Here where meals are shared as well as doings of the day.

But it is not about the stuff, really. It is about what is inside. How can what is going on around me and filling up my cupboards really have anything to do with what is filling up my being? It does, for me it does. Learning to live with less is not about the stuff. It is about the condition of the heart. I need so very little, stuff is nice to have, but not nearly as nice as the clearing out of the cobwebs inside ones soul when the excess is filtered out, given away, donated to those who may be in greater need. I feel the blessing of these temporal gifts. I do not through away lightly. Mine is not a heart of ignorant, ungrateful disposal. there is less room for God when the house is filled with stuff. 

tick, tick, tick

I find myself wishing for more time. More time for myself, without taking away any from them. I hurry faster, maybe in this way, since I cannot add minutes to the clock or hours to my life, maybe I will somehow be able to pack more into that which I already have. Until my tank runs empty. I forgot to fill it up. And so on it spins, like clothes in the spin cycle, all the moisture is being pulled from me.

I read chapter 4 of this book a friend placed in my hand..... I understand. And yet, I wonder why I didn't see it before. 

"Being in a hurry. Getting to the next thing without fully entering the thing in front of me. I cannot think of a single advantage I've ever gained from being in a hurry. But a thousand broken and missed things, tens of thousands, lie in the wake of all the rushing... Through all that haste I thought I was making up time. It turns out I was throwing it away." 

Mark Buchanan - excerpt from 'One Thousand Gifts' by Ann Voskamp

I do not need more time. I need less hurry, less running, less get-up-and-go. I need perspective. Sometimes the answer could be simply that I need to do less with the time I have, and be present in the moment. But the phone will ring again, and someone will have to be somewhere, and there will always be another deadline to meet - that is part of this life too. How I meld the two, there-in lies the challenge.

Hurry will have to happen, but it must not a way by which I orchestrate my life. It does not have to be the rule I live. It can be the exception.

So, I take those moments for myself. I need them. I let go the guilt that I am not with them. I fill back up, and then I am ready when I step back in, even when chaos crumbles at the front door.

I am realizing that when I do less I feel more. Wouldn't it be better to do a few things really well, than a thousand things mediocre? I also need to be aware that there will be seasons of my life. I do not want to rush through to summer realizing I have missed my spring, while children grew. Don't rush. Enjoy. There will be plenty of time for all that I want to do, or, maybe, there won't. Maybe if I slow down enough to listen to God, He will direct my ways. His way for me can become my will. And then, in that sense, I will have used this time doing all that I was created to do. Isn't that enough?

So this day, I wrap tight my arms around every child and challenge that comes my way. This is my life, there are lessons to be learned, and joy to be felt right here, right now. I mustn't step on tippy toe looking above and beyond my very life. I need to live it.