While we are not looking…

It hung there, while I grew up. 

An embroidered picture and poem, hand-sewn by my mom and framed in a simple wooden frame. It hung on the wall of our living room all my growing up years. I can still see it hanging there in my mind’s eye. I read it so often it’s etched in my memory. It now hangs in our loft, where the kids and I play, just to remind me:

I hope my children look back on today

And see a mother who had time to play.

There will be years for cleaning and cooking

For children grow up while we are not looking

In my life, I translate this poem, “There will be years for speaking and writing….” and I need to read it every day. I am in the thick of my busiest season. Many weekends I’m away. Many hours are spent studying.

But in every spare moment, I resolve afresh … to play. With all my heart.  This week we colored on the front porch, zoomed matchbox cars down the wooden ramp on the back porch, and made high-pitched voices for the tiny princess dolls. Jeff read The Hobbit out loud to eager ears for six hours on his day off. Today I am reveling in a weekend of no speaking engagements and soaking up these sacred moments with all that is within me.

These years are so short, I resolve afresh to enjoy them. I resolve afresh to remember–they grow up while I am not looking. 

There will be years for ________________.

Fill in the blank. What is it for you? What will be gone when you are not looking?

I pray no matter what your day looks like, you are able to savor whatever it is that will someday be gone while you are not looking. A child, a parent, a season, a day. However profound or however simple, may you enjoy today for what it is — a gift. Happy Friday; Thanks so much for reading.