Skip to main content

memories



okay, so here's something crazy. my son - a child who entered the world with me in the room - has already finished his first year of preschool. how did that happen? he is almost 4 and a half already! where did that time go?

now, it's not like they didn't warn me. "enjoy these moments," says every person who ever talks to me about kids. "soon they'll be in college." it has become a bit of a joke between shannon and i when we are cleaning vomit off the floor, or giving a child a timeout for trying to strangle his brother, that we look at each other with painted smiles and say with sarcasm, "enjoy these moments - they don't last forever."

and yet, even though there are moments along the way that are difficult to appreciate, it is absolutely true that all the moments go by like comets, on their way to some other solar system where all mundane moments go to be barely remembered. life is just frustrating like that. it is precisely those practically boring parts of all this that we really wish we could hold onto and never forget. like the way jack picks his nose when he thinks i'm not looking. or the way cade hugs my arm against his face when he is watching tv. or the way jack refers to indiana jones as "engliana jones."

and so it is that i remind myself on this night to cherish all the moments. mayby i can't chisel them all out in stone. but i can at least live them with all the presence and joy that being human allows, trusting that they won't all be forgotten- that i will carry these snapshots with me until kingdom come. especially then.

one of my prayers is that my memory will be redeemed. that all the good things i've forgotten will be remembered and all the awful things that i can't seem to forget will be lost. in the meantime i'm going to enjoy these moments. they don't last forever.

Comments

cathyq said…
Time flies, whether you are having fun or not! Enjoy it all, even the vomit. Believe it or not, you WILL miss it someday. Someday, when your grown sons sit next to you, you will remember when Jack used to pull your arm to his face and Cade used to run over for a quick hug every few minutes; you will long for those days again. Life is truly a gift; open it everyday and be thankful.

Popular posts from this blog

#thoughtsandprayers

i made these comments and prayed the following prayer at one of our worship services at SPWF yesterday, and had a few folks asked if i would post them, so there they are: 
It has been a season of terrible tragedy.  And I have noticed in the news a trending phrase: thoughts and prayers.  It even has its own hashtag on twitter and other social media, but net necessarily in a good way.  People are understandably tired of hearing about others’ thoughts and prayers, when that is only a thinly-veiled way of saying that our only obligation to those who suffer is a brief moment of silence, or nothing more than a tweet or public statement.  The truth is that, for those of us who follow Jesus, much is required when our neighbors suffer.  We are called to do justice where we can, to love kindness and mercy, and to walk with God through it all.  But let us be careful not to throw out the proverbial baby with the bathwater.  We are, as people of faith, those who know that prayer is not simply an em…

a divided tree

there is a tree in my back yard.  i'm pretty sure it's an oak tree.  at least that's what i think Shannon told me.  i don't know my oaks from my maples, my elms from my locusts.  to me, it's a tree: a corinthian column bursting up into life and glory.  full of sap and pulp and rings and bugs and cells pulsing with water and always reaching for something.  it is full of rhythm, reach and flourish then fall and die, and repeat. 

this particular tree, though, isn't of one mind. 

half of it's rusted orange leaves have given up their grip and surrendered -gracefully or not - to the pull of gravity and the threat of winter.  the north side of this inauspicious oak is just about bare naked, all sticks and straight lines, a skeleton of itself.  but the side that looks south is stubbornly resisting change.  no longer green, the leaves have compromised their summer vibrancy, but they are clearly not ready to concede death just yet. 

i feel like i can relate to this …

thankful right now

"if the only prayer you ever say in your life is 'thank you,' it will be enough." -Meister Eckhart

"thanksgiving is inseparable from prayer." -John Wesley

i've been thinking about gratitude quite a bit this week, and how to foster a thankful spirit in the midst of the barrage of bad news that for me is punctuated by yet another "breaking news" notification on my phone, interrupting the busyness of my day to rudely remind me that the world's brokenness knows nothing of limits or boundaries, not to mention my schedule or sanity.  still, the bad news keeps coming. 

i just scrolled through my most recent notifications just from the last few days and they contain phrases like "crimes against humanity," "57 million users hacked, but not reported," "alleged pattern of sexual abuse," and "extremely disturbing," just to name a few.  how am i supposed to be present at a staff meeting when my phone is buzzing …