Friday, May 9, 2014

Quiet observation of ordinary

I took a break from blogging because I felt overwhelmed by the good, but time consuming information that floods our lives & I didn't feel it was necessary to pretend to be an expert in something or type about personal details as I am continuing on in this leap of faith that involves more uncertainty than "wisdom."

But as I am discovering, part of the beauty of the journey is looking back over where you've come from and seeing the changes that have occurred and the neat ways that my faith has been made real. 

As I was reminded during Chik-Fil-A's Leadercast session today, one of the toughest demotivators with exercise is that it takes a while to see the progress. This is true in day to day life as a mom who is navigating faith, family, relationships and calling. You read a little without retaining and feel like you'll never get it. You correct a child over and over again using well researched techniques & you get no change in attitude. You're transparent & invest in the lives of people who seem to never grow beyond superficial acquaintances. You work hard, aim high and hit a home run only to have a boss come along and change direction of the ship, chalking your hard work up to a one-time victory without a sustainable impact-so it seems. 

But this week, I don't know that there was any big sign or major victory. There was no road sign indicating that the promised land of success was just around the corner. No, this week, there was disappointment. There was a messy house and canceled school and a fender bender. There was a meeting that went terrible. And there was a severe allergy attack that made up for the past couple of years I didn't suffer that left me speechless.

But somewhere between the moment I put down my coping mechanism of my phone and decided to be in the game, that I realized how very remarkable and hopefully this broken, messy, disappointing life can be. 
And for a moment, that same ol' sun that was here all week was setting and the sticky-faced squealing children stopping begging to be pushed and simply played independently--running around the yard, dancing in and out of the radiating sun beams. I reached for my phone to take a picture, because one day I'll want to remember this moment. After all, I so enjoy going through old memories even now.

But their independence changed my mind, as I remembered that all too soon I won't have the chance to just watch them frolicking. They will not beg me for the attention that makes them feel important.  

 We make things too hard. Sometimes, all you have to do is show up. You don't have to do anything, but walk forward, even silently if you don't want to or can't speak. 

So I sat quietly. Watching. Undistracted and engaged in the little moments that lead up to big important changes I want in my life.