Hiking in Pearls

Tag: life

  • The Pace of a Child

    The Pace of a Child

    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

  • Looking for Dishes

    Looking for Dishes

    “Hurry up,” I told my oldest son for the seventh time. “If we jog, we can still catch them.”

    “But mom, my legs are tired,” he answered as he collapsed to the ground.

    My younger son had already walked ahead with a family friend. Their shadows appeared and disappeared as they walked underneath the solar lights that lit the walk path. It would be at least an hour before the sun was up.  I looked ahead. It would be a strain to catch up with them now. I turned back and look at my son laying in the middle of the walk path on his back. He was content laying on the hard asphalt and looking up at the stars.

    “This feels better,” he sighed.

    I guess I’ll join him, I thought as I laid down next to him.

    “Mom, I really like looking for dishes.”

    “Dishes?” My mind pictured the kitchen sink at home. “In the sky?”

    “Yeah. The big dipper and little dipper, they’re my favorite. I like how they pour into each other.”

    “That is pretty cool, isn’t it?” In the silence of the moment, I reflected on his words, “They pour into each other.”

    I learned a vital life lesson from my 8-year-old son right then. Our life should be one of pouring. Every day we should be looking for ways to pour into each other. Not dipping from someone else to try and fill up ourselves. When we live a life of dipping, then everyone ends up empty. BUT once we transition to a life of pouring, then everyone is full and there is no lack!

    “That looks like the big dipper there,” he pointed.

    “I think your right, it sure looks like it.”

    “Do you know what that one is?” He asked.

    “No, I don’t know very many of them. Most of them you have to use your imagination to be able to see what they’re named.” I paused for a moment before adding, “You know, God, He holds all the stars in place by the power of His might. He has called them all by name.” (Isaiah 40:26 and Psalm 147:4)

    We continued in conversation while the stars slowly began to fade. The sun would soon outshine them completely.

    I reflected on the two lessons I learned that morning as we drove home.

    The first is that we must pour.

    Each moment in our life is an opportunity to pour or dip from someone else. My prayer for us, is that we will look at our own life, not as having a deficit but as having an abundance and that we dip deeply and pour lavishly into someone else’s life. It could be as simple as a phone call to an old friend. There could be a shut in you know that you could take a meal to. You might leave coins at the quarter machine for the next child that comes by. Or like me, maybe you’ll find yourself looking up at the stars.

    The second is that all we really have is this moment. Right now.

    We run through life in such a rush to get to the next moment, that we have robbed ourselves of the beauty that this moment held. Days and years fade as quickly as the stars at dawn. I am reminded of James 4:14 KJV that says, “Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.”

    As I learn to embrace the moments of life, I am finding such a richness in the days that is hard to contain. I am grateful for this simple life moment that I took the time to stop and look at the stars. The lessons I learned because I chose to stop and be still with my son for a single moment changed my life forever. He poured into my life so completely, and he didn’t even know he was pouring! Isn’t that beautiful? He was tired and chose to enjoy the moment and he shared it with me, and he poured. My, how he poured.

    These slowdowns, the moments we pour are the treasure that so richly highlight this life we have been given. We must learn to embrace them in the fullest.

    Friend, I want to encourage you to slowdown and pour today, and you will find yourself in the center of contentment when you do.