I feel like my writing voice has gone quiet. Burdened by a feeling that there is a lot of chatter in this world already, I have been in a season of hibernation--reading, listening and taking it all in.
Paragraphs have struck me. The words of others have spurred me to lengthier thought. It has been good for my soul to simply be still and absorb much of what is already out there.
As Spring approaches, I am itching to bloom again. Face to face meetings with people have started to happen with more regularity. I am feeling stirred to write and contribute to the world's conversation again.
But I don't want to move on too quickly and forget the things that have impacted me most.
The simplicity of family life has been a blessing.
Watching my children delight in the old game of tetherball.
Flashlight dance parties in our pjs.
Scratching sweet 8 year old backs before bed.
Reading a bedtime story all piled in one bed--wondering when they will outgrow this.
Impromptu science projects in the kitchen sink.
Long bike riding adventures.
Competitive games of Othello, Mancala, Sorry, Fluxx & Zingo.
Baking (and, of course, eating) brownies for no special reason.
Poring over the newest Guinness Book of World Records.
Play dates with friends.
The glorious transition to handling discipline issues with back and forth dialogue with a child instead of simply a one directional lecture.
The delight (and frustrating destruction) of having a puppy in our home.
Random acts of kindness and love (occasionally) between siblings.
Wallowing on the sofa watching yet another episode of Phinneas & Ferb.
Marvelling at the height that it finally coming to my tribe. Everyone is chest high!
Last month I transitioned all of our family photos over to a new hard drive and was struck by how much of every day life I have forgotten. During various stages of my trio's childhood I have been so overwhelmed by the monotony of the ordinary that I became blinded to the gems hidden within. (I am starting to sound like an old Mom :-) I won't pretend I miss the whining or the tantrums, the runny noses or the smashed cheerios littering every square inch of the house. But I do miss the little voices that inhabited my home in those days...and the tummies...and the giggles...and the marching band parades with pots and pans...and the mispronounced words. There were many sweet things I didn't think to treasure.
These are the days that my children will count as childhood--and while there will be stories of grand adventure--it is the every day moments that are most shaping their hearts and mine.
It is my heart's prayer that the Gospel story is being lived out in these walls over and over again. As we seek to love well, fail, forgive and give each other grace to try again.
There are chore charts and pajama days.
There is grumpiness and refreshing laughter.
For every annoying habit, an endearing quirk.
We get grouchy, bossy, selfish. We act silly, offer choices and seek to serve.
I am still tired.
This is real life.
Taken only in a sliver it can be a peak or a valley...but taken as a whole, seasoned with grace, love and joy it is GOOD.
I am grateful.