Last.

It's interesting how life changes when you try your hardest to grasp each day as if it won't last.  Don't we all instinctively know this truth?  Nothing lasts?  We know it but we don't live it.   I didn't.  I rushed my babies through the newborn stage, through their toddler years, through the 3-year-old bliss, I was in a hurry to see them grow.  I was tired, worn out, stressed.  I hadn't yet realized deep in my soul the truth that it wouldn't last.  Now those baby days are distant memories, and I'm awed at how fast that time really does go, despite the clichés.

Today I'm sitting on a sandy beach watching three big kids play.  They're digging sand castles and jumping waves.  Squeals of excitement meet the sound of crashing waves.  Daddy scoops buckets while the kids give architectural advice.

The sun is warm on our faces and I'm blessed and I'm rich in warmth but am I fully here?  I ask myself the question as I gaze at the scene in front of me.  How can I be sure to stop long enough to realize the gift before me?  It's intentional, that's for sure.  'Stop.  Breathe.  Look around you.'   All this, the beach, the sun, the sand, the children giggling all out glee.  It's moments like these I wish I could stop all time and freeze us here.  Right here.

The little girl with her golden braid, the youngest with his sound effects, and the eldest with his droopy swim shirt and heartfelt analysis of the granola bar nutrition label.  I smile so wide to myself that I wonder if I look weird.  Like those people that walk down the street all happy for no reason.

But this moment, happy as it is - it won't last.  It is so temporary.  My moments are temporary and your moments are temporary and the whole of our lives is made up of little, tiny, temporary and fleeting frames of time.  Each memory making up the story of us.

 

How do we fully embrace the now?

 

I learned this truth from a wise friend - if we want to stop time, we need to enter in.  Because when we fully enter into the moment with the full weight of us all there, the clock slows just a little.  It really, truly does. 

I remember and I stop to crouch low.  I hear the sound of little hands patting the tops of sand filled buckets and our littlest one's voice saying, "Daddy?  Is that gonna be the bottom of the castle?"  I bend lower, closer to the ground than the kids even, tummy to sand.  This is their perspective.  This is their world.  And it's fleeting.

Alex whispers it to me: "Play with me, Mama..."

He hands me two knights.  I get two and he only gets one because one of my guys has a chewed up sword.  Apparently, according the a sweet four-year-old imagination, it wasn't chewed but actually teleported.  I laugh out loud.  I could have missed this moment.  I could have been lost in my phone or my book or my notepad or some other place.

I touch his head.  My heart flips.  They won't want to build castles with me forever.  This just can't possibly last.  There will be no second chances at entering into this very moment.  This season is gone in a heartbeat, and I better choose to enter into it wholeheartedly.  Not tomorrow.  Not later this afternoon.  Right NOW.

Though these realizations seem solemn, they are powerful and profound.  We know it instinctively, but we need to know it soulfully - now won't last.

Later we jump more waves and I get the chance to hold little hands and gaze at smiling faces.  Sandy bums waddle to the shore and giggles are heard soft and sweet.  I'm reminded of the song that speaks of our lives being a wave, tossed in the ocean... a whisper in the wind.  Like this moments... whispers.  Whispers of God's love, whispers of grace.  And that overwhelming whisper to stop everything and enter in...

Crouch low.
Play in the sand.
Get a little dirty - get in the moment and weigh it down... slow the clock and make it last as long as you possibly can.

Our time may be temporary, but we lean towards the eternal.  All is gain if all is invested in eternal things - love, relationship, truth.  When we fully embrace this moment, we enter in to something so much bigger than ourselves...



(hugs)





Written for Five Minute Friday.

Being and Doing.

I've come to realize the idea of 'rest' is hard for me.  I literally just don't like to sit down.  I much, much prefer to be busy: cleaning, cooking, chopping, planning, gardening, running, moving - doing.

But I've also come to realize how important it is to slow down.  To relax enough to really, seriously reflect and connect.  Reflect on the big picture, and connect with God and others.  This is HUGE for stability and spiritual health, friends.  HUGE.  I have, mind-you, realized that you can reflect WHILE moving.  (For all the crazy A-types out there, there is hope!)  I pray while I run and I sing songs to God while I prepare meals.  It can be done. (Chuckles)

But honestly. 

We in the West - we don't like rest.  Or at least, many of us don't.  Rest is for the weak.  Sleep is even for the weak.  What with all the drug-induced ways to stay awake, who even needs sleep? 

When we race through life, we're teaching our children to do the same.  We so often feel defined by what we do and evaluated by how much we achieve - it feels like it's all about 'doing'.

We sign our kids up for every sport and activity under the sun and forfeit family time to join the kiddie rat race.  It's the elephant in the room - the question of, "Who's kid is DOING more?"

Because surely, 'doing' all these things is the precursor to that all-successful life we should strive for and push our kids towards.  Right?  I wonder if we've become less human BEINGS and more human DOINGS.

We run and fill our 'doing' cups to overflowing but when do we truly concern ourselves with who we  ARE?  With who our children truly ARE and who are children are going to BECOME? 

Not what they do, who they are.

In our little family, we've chosen to step way back from that crazy race.  We believe children spend their time best with family and in that glorious space where imagination and creativity can run free.  Where Mom and Dad are close at hand and life is experienced together.  Where daily activities aren't a competition, but an experience.

See, we want our family to be more 

focused on the BEING than the DOING.

The crazy busy days of running from checkmark to checkmark leaves little space for just simply being.  When can we slow down long enough to even think?  When can our children calm their minds and bodies and connect with each other, with us, with God?  When can they look up and look all around and be still in this world?

How can we ask the 'Who am I?' and shape the "Who are they becoming?' when we never stop? 

The 'doing' trap is deep and wide.  The thrill of the 'busy' life.  The addiction of piling up the shopping lists and life 'goals' and wants and want-tos.

And, I know, not all doing is wrong.  Of course not.  But I'm talking about the kind of doing that is go, go, go, busy all the time and accomplishing very little that actually matters.  That actually is going to impact this globe in a powerful way.  That is God-driven, love-centered work.  That kind of doing, is biblical.  Busy-ness for the sake of busy-ness, is not.  Busy-ness for the sake of showing off, is not.  Busy-ness for the sake of acquiring the next thing, the next thrill, or the next gold star - it's actually called, "A WASTE".

Because life isn't about a piling up of accomplishments.  It's about building relationships.  Our relationship with Christ Jesus, and relationships with others.  It's not a rat-race to the front.  It's a bowing low to the very bottom.  It's not a stress-filled, "HAVE-TO!", it's a peaceful, "What would God have me do?"

Because, if first we become who God would have us become -the doing will be all laid out.  It will be clear and the path, straight.  Because who we are in Him will define how we live our days.  It will define how we spend our time and yes, what we 'do'.

Training ourselves and training our children to long to BE above longing to DO is not an easy task.  Daily prayer and hourly renewal is needed.

Faith, yes, that too.

Courage?  Yep.  Because you'll be standing apart.  Steadfastness, yes - because walking that narrow road is sometimes hard.

We need to have the ability to buck the giant of "what do you do?" and say instead, I will be in Him.  What I do is defined by that solemn and profound truth.  I am in Christ.  And what I 'do' may not look like much to some but that's ok.

Because we need to teach ourselves and teach our children that the BEING precedes the DOING.  Just the same way Eucharisteo precedes the miracle.

When we seek who we are to BE in Christ Jesus, everything else falls in place.  The doing becomes sacred, meaningful, and often quiet, simple, one-on-one.  The building of heartfelt friendships and relationships - the singing of His song in our own unique way. 

Imperfectly, off key - but beautiful, authentic.

When we stop long enough to just be in Him, we realize it's actually about our love for Christ above all else.  Striving to be like Him and then, do like He did.  And if we can, above all else, strive to BE in Him, we will be filled and our lives will flow over with love.  Our doing will be for others and for the Kingdom first.

We will BE content.

We will BE connected.

We will BE a life-breather.

We will BE fruitful.

We will BE renewed, restored, refreshed.

We will BE clay in the Master Potter's hand.

We will BECOME exactly who He has called us to be and in turn, He will show us exactly what we are to DO - every day, every moment.



Growing, seeking, learning... right along with you. 

Big hugs,

Cassandra

 

 

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