Dandelion Days

Most days in and of themselves are nothing special. Very normal, really.
Simple. Repetative.
Laundry. Meals. Sweep. Clean. School.
Wipe bums. Wipe tears. Wash the counter. Wash the clothes.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

The same work every day...Could be mind-numbing, if I let it be so.
It will never change.

A sea of neverending.

Until they're grown and gone.

If we live for tidy homes -
Caught up laundry, and floors always clean...

We'll miss all of this.

The laundry is a forever job.
As long as we eat, there will be dishes.
As long as we live here - my home will get dirty....daily.

Childhood is not forever.
I read somewhere that "Childhood is a JOURNEY. Not a race."
If I race through our days, I will miss all of this....

We have to stop.
We have to choose to see.
We have to seek out the LIFE amidst the mess and the crazy of the chaos.
The joy that might be buried under sorrow.

Share the wonder.
Live the joy.
Accept the invite to "Come and play?"

Taste. Touch. See.
Find the beauty. Live the holy. See the sacred.

991. Baby newts freshly hatched.
992. The smell of a freshly mowed lawn.
993. The sun in their hair.
994. Going at their pace.
995. Happiness in the simple.
996. Seeing their joy at new discoveries.
997. Holding hands on lazy walks.
998. Infectious laughter.
999. Conversations between brothers.
1,000. Dandelion Days.

1,001. Barely scratching the surface.....

2 comments:

Rachael said...

Mmm...In a lot of ways I'm grateful for the "sea of neverending". Time has a way of passing far too fast, doesn't it?! Thanks for the reminder the cherish the dandelion days...
Oh, and I adore your previous post. My eyes kept getting too leaky to write a comment and tell you so. I love you, friend.

Katie said...

We drove past your house yesterday and saw the girls outside . . . and a little blonde boy calling them. Made me remember just how precious your family is to me.

xoxoxoxox to all you Bookers