The day was good.
The best I've had in a while.
I got the least done,
no major "to-do's" checked off the list,
but somehow that didn't matter.
We went fishing in the driveway.
Sold lemonade to each other.
I moved furniture around and left everything out of place.
Pulled old toys off the shelf and out of the closet.
The kids played. And played. And played.
And when it came time to clean up...their grins grew even larger when I gave them permission to climb in bed with their "new" found toys. To leave their treasures scattered around the floor and their rooms a mess.
"Really Mama?" Lilli asked. "Are you sure?" I nodded yes. We will tidy-up tomorrow. Let's just read another story and cuddle. Relax into bedtime.
We get under the covers and I tell them another "chapter" of my love story with their Daddy.
A love that sparked when we were only 15.
They giggle and squirm and ask to hear to more.
Today was slow.
Not long or boring. But slow.
We took our time when we rode our bikes, lingered at lunch, laughed through bath time.
As a mom and as I woman I am continuing to learn that joy comes in the unplanned and in the present, not in the rushing or the accomplishments. Peace is abundant only in the purposeful decision to slow down, to be fully aware and fully alive. To be thankful for the gifts all around.
Children help push this lesson. So many of us don't get it in our attachment to this fast world. As mothers we can easily miss it if we don't stop and slow. The pace -of potty-training toddlers and teaching self-control to kindergartners and selflessness to second graders can drive us nuts if we push on and busy our days.
Virtue blossoms only in the shadows of purposeful minutes, clicks on the clock not distracted by activity
but focused on the heart of our children.
My daily prayer is that the Lord will continue to slow me
as I find my satisfaction in Him.
As always He has answered me in His comical and sovereign way, with a miracle blessing.
Carrying a fourth child naturally requires my pace to slow, to get less done, to choose each move with intention, finding joy in my body's frailty as it houses another soul.
May the Lord continue to grow me in Him.
My sisters, may He continue to grow in you too.