Thursday, October 27, 2011

Slow.

Slow.

It's a word, a concept I have to remind myself of everyday.
So quickly forgotten or pushed aside for a more convenient time.
But the time is now.
It may never come again.
I could miss the beauty of her spontaneous dance when no one is looking.
Or the innocence of the song she sings as she plays.
There's the story she tells while turning pages filled with words she has yet to learn.
And then the moments of walking hand in hand, a girl child on each side.



Slow.

Let it last a little bit longer.
They won't always want to show me over and over how they can blow bubbles in the tub water.
Someday showing off her biggest, bestest jump will be just plain silly.
Eventually my heart will yearn for those quiet, middle-of-the-night moments when a little one just needs Mama to hold them to make it all better.

But somedays the mind screams with all that needs to be done.
A floor scrubbed.
A toilet cleaned.
Laundry washed, dried, folded, put away.
Dust the furniture, the end tables, the light fixtures.
Teach the littles their ABCs and 123s.
Vacuum the carpets.
Make the beds.
Now, what's for supper?
Somedays I let the rising panic take control.
As if it mattered most.

Slow.

The little one growing inside is teaching me already.
Used of God to make this mother slow.
Slow enough to hold a child a little bit longer.
To stop another in mid twirl to simply say "I love you."
To lay back and really feel the not-so-gentle kicks of a miracle growing within.



In a world that says this is not enough.
You need more.
What about you?
Your security?
Your dreams and passions?
Your sense of self?

Slow.

I am growing into the ability to throw my head back and laugh.
I have all that right here.
In the midst of the everyday.
Everyday with them.
Guided and directed by Him, for His glory and my joy.
This is the better way.



Slow.

Enough to enter their world of make believe and stories without end.
Deep conversations of heaven and fire hydrants and why we need blood.
Of hugs and snuggles and top-of-the-lung, screeching tickles.
How could I ever complain?
This grace, these blessings, a life of love and sweet perfect moments.
Its all right here.
I only need to slow.

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