It’s been a while…to say the least. Close to a year. So how do you capture a year? How do you adequately express all of the happenings of a year? We’ve been discussing time in a devotional group I’m participating in.
Time. The indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole.
The book we’re reading dares to suggest ‘time is life’. It feels as though there is so much, yet so little all at once.
I’ve caught myself noticing the little things lately. In the midst of all the big: husband’s new job, house reconstruction, new puppies (yes, plural), new kindergarten student; I’m finding myself noticing a butterfly, hearing the chickens clucking in the backyard as if in some crazy conversation, a beautiful sky, the smell of dessert baking in the oven, the taste of summer peaches, the softness of puppy fur, the shell a bug shed left stuck on some wood.
This past year has felt, in many ways, like the ending of something. A change in my husband’s determination professionally, the last time I’ll have my only ‘baby’ at home with me, the redesign of the house we’ve always known, the downward turn of the health of our beloved older dogs (yes, again, plural) ❤
I spent the 10 weeks of my son’s ‘last summer before big boy school’ jam packing it with fun times. The first week of school was a blur. It went by quickly. As we get into a new routine, I find myself reevaluating time. My time. I want it to count. What makes it count? Finding joy in the little things? Appreciation for learning? Receiving grace? It’s definitely bigger than the routine of the day to day. Of going to work. Of completing tasks. Of living in monotony.
I feel an excitement. Almost like life is ‘on the verge’ of something. I have found myself recalling the shell of the insect. Not sure many consider it beautiful, but I find myself mesmerized, almost relating to it. What does the bug go through? Is it scared when it realizes it’s time to shed an entire layer of itself? Does it just know? What happens on the other side? What does the new skin feel like? Is it sticky with uncertainty? Or firm with clarity? Regardless, it happens. When it’s time. How beautiful. Isn’t that what life is like at moments? If we stop and slow down, don’t things tend to take their course naturally? Why rush? Why push? Instead notice. Explore. Live.
I wrote this to my new kindergartener on social media as he began shedding his outer layer and is beginning to enter into his new skin: As our final summer day draws to a close, memories of sweet summer time moments make me smile. You are one amazing little guy & I am lucky enough to call you mine while we’re here on this earth. Thanks for one fun summer, Pug! I’m looking forward to watching you grow in your next big adventure. I find this could apply to me as well. My only child at home. A new role is emerging. A new routine. A new normal. So here we are celebrating our last moments together in our old skins as we shed and emerge into something new. My only prayer is we take the time to celebrate our new skins just as we celebrated our old ❤