Last night I had a moment. A moment that was too sweet and precious and life-giving to my heart not to document for all of time…and share with you…
My 9-year-old came home from basketball practice. The other two kids were already snoozing away, so this was a rare moment of alone time with just her.
She came in bouncing off the walls on her basketball high. She loves it. Everything about it. In fact, when I asked her if the coaches yelled at her she said, “YES!” (throwing her arms up in the air and a smile across her face). She loves it.
Last night I was given a gift — one that doesn’t happen as much as I’d like.
While Grace was sitting at the table rambling on and on about all the details of her practice, she pulled a chair out for me to sit by her.
Now…I want you to hear me clearly… I’m usually the mom hurrying her kids off to bed because it’s after 8 o’clock. I’m tired. The kids are tired. I need some down time. HURRY UP!
But, for some reason, I didn’t care this time. I sat in the chair that she pulled out for me. I listened to every detail and watched her draw out every play in blue crayon on a piece of paper that was left on the table.
She was giddy. I was filled with joy. My heart could have exploded in that moment because I realized — we are in a new stage of life with her.
Gone are the days of diapers and spit-up and wiping bottoms. Today I can sit at the table with my daughter and watch the girl that God created blossom.
I never thought I would get to today. And, I’m sure I won’t always think it’s glorious, which is why I wanted to document it. It was special and it was a turning point in our relationship.
5 years ago, my husband put together a video with some of our favorite pictures from the year. It was the year our son was born and our family was complete. It recently popped up in my Facebook feed and after watching it, I realized how quickly life goes. The days are long and the years are oh so short. But sometimes I find myself wishing it away. Do you feel that way?
James 4:14 :: Why, you do not even now what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.
If there is one thing I learned in 2015, it’s that life is so short. We have no guarantee of tomorrow or next month or next year. So, instead of wishing things were different, I’ve decided to stop (when I can) and take it in. I want to listen when they talk and give them my full attention when they want to diagram their basketball offense. Because, before I know it, my house will be all too quiet.