If you opened my refrigerator right now, you wouldn’t notice the litter of condiments and leftovers. Your eyes would settle on the pencil.
Ground to the last inch of its life. It was left by one of my beautiful children…three weeks ago.
I didn’t move it, because I wanted to remember…
I stroll to that precious moment in my mind. There I can hear the chorus of laughter from the other room. The picture is clear as I close my eyes. I see an opened package of Cheeze-its spilling out on top of a container of blueberries. A pencil worn far too short to be of any use laid in front of the scene.
Mementos of fleeting youth.
Soon the children will be grown.
Responsibility will lasso their minds and pull them into a place of order.
I left the pencil to keep what I fear will be lost. For I am all too aware, that this moment will soon be gone.
There was a time I would clean around their perfect, grubby, little handprints on the window. Knowing one day it would be the last time to wipe them up. Their hands would never be this size again.
The handprints have since faded…
Stickers can still be found on the dryer door and legs of the dining chairs. They remind me of innocence and imagination.
In my flowerbed you will find a pile of broken trinkets. Big hearts displayed through small hands that carried each piece. Their souls spilling over with joy from the “treasures” they had found.
Treasure, they wanted to share with me.
I am reminded of Genesis 33. It is here we meet Jacob returning home from his time as a fugitive and working with Laban. His brother Esau came out to meet him and offered to join him for the remainder of the journey home.
Jacob declines. Telling him that the children are tender and the flocks have young. He doesn’t want to drive them too hard.
Jacob, rather than pushing his children to hurry up, slowed down with them. He changed his pace to theirs.
He chose to protect a sacred time. Life shared as parent and child.
I am finding as I grow into life, I have forgotten. All the things that truly matter.
My children help me to recall. All the wonderful things I overlook.
A beautiful gift of remembrance awaits each of us. Parent or not, if we are willing to slow to their stride.
A life of priceless wonder is at hand.
Friend, I want to encourage you today to slow to the pace of a child.
Remember to Tarry…even Stop.
To Ponder the Majesty of the World.
To Laugh.
To Play.
To Explore.
To Discover.
To Dream.
To Live.
Friend, there is much yet to enjoy.
In grace and peace,
Sharon Rose
