Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Fifteen Minutes and a Technicolor Chalk Memory

 

Last week, we had one of those busy days where I was trying to do too many things in too few hours. I'm working on managing my time better, but I'm also working on not loving with haste. I failed in regards to the former, but on the second count, I think I succeeded.

Peyton does deserve some of the credit, to be fair. As he was walking out the door to go to work, he mentioned that it was such a warm, beautiful day we should really go outside. I told him I wasn't sure where I'd fit that in, but as is usually the case in situations like these, it became almost a challenge to prove to myself that I could. I'm glad for it because the reward was one of those memories I'd like to freeze forever.

Annie in her soft knit sunflower dress that she adores so much. A dress I bought when she was less than six months old because it reminded me so much of my own little girl dresses. A funny thing happened in the three and a half years since I bought that little sunflower dress at the first consignment sale I ever went to- she became increasingly like little girl Sarah Denley. Like little girl SD, she loves soft faded things...muted colors...delicate patterns. Like little girl SD, she comes undone at the mercy of bothersome tags. Like little girl SD, frilly fabrics that are scratchy are quickly discarded in spite of their beauty. And like little girl SD, she's stubborn and lets her opinions be known.

Sweet girl drawing a boundary line of protection and cautiously guarding it to make sure he brother doesn't go near the street. She mothers him a lot these days and I love seeing her play a caregiver to another real live human being for the first time. She does physical tasks that make his life easier, but she also encourages and affirms him and she teaches him things like what noises each animal makes, going over and over it again with great discipline and great patience. I hope she's always doing all these things for others- serving, encouraging, teaching. I can't wait to see what the Lord does with her tender heart.


The speckled chalk that of course didn't come that way. It's all rubbed up next to each other and now each piece has little flecks of all the other colors on it. Sort of a metaphor of how I'd like our family to operate- letting other people's stories and burdens rub us in such a way that slowly we don't see near as much of just ourselves. A lesson in community from a few pieces of weary worn chalk.


Those fat boy babe fingers that grip it so tightly. Those fingers that will one day be slender and belong to the hands of a man. Fingers that will clutch the gear shift when Peyton teaches him how to drive a standard and they laugh about how his momma never had the patience for it. Fingers that will wipe sweat of his brow as he works hard to accomplish a physical goal he's set for himself sort of like that one time his momma set one for herself. Fingers that one day might grab a beautiful girl's hand and slip a ring on her own slender finger.


The new chalk from Minnie- all in the form of "treats". Annie (and Graves) remind me so often, as children are prone to do, that little things can be big things. Those new pieces of chalk just meant so much to her and her excitement was palpable. One thing I've enjoyed about monthly posting the things I love is that it further enables me to find small, tangible things that bring great delight. I truly believe that one of the things that helps me create a sense of peace around myself is allowing myself to be filled with gratitude over seemingly small things.


The homeschool notebook laid out in the sun and the reminder that memory work seems to be so much less work when your hands are full of beautifully colored chalk and the sun is hitting your back and you can just breath in the fresh air.


The mop of hair on my darling boy a day or so before a much needed haircut. I love that, for that day, he looked like he was ready for a wild rumpus....because really he always is. I love that he looked half monster himself, a wild child that often times I just can't tame. A glance at him like this- his hair almost orange tinted in the sunlight, caught mid roar- and it occurs to me that I really don't want to. Folks like him and his papa...taming their wild, roaming spirits...that's not something I'm at all interested in these days.


But then here. Just a moment later and he's all baby again. Such are our days lately. I'm thankful there's still much baby in him.

All of this LIFE happened in probably about a quarter of an hour between scrubbing dishes and going to the grocery store. Fifteen minutes that I will hold in my heart for the rest of my life- when he pulls out of our driveway the first time, when she mothers her own child, when he slides that ring on that pretty girl's finger. When any or all those things happen, I'll have this memory.

 Lord, remind me of the great reward in store when I don't love them hastily. 

3 comments:

The Taffs said...

Such beautiful pictures/memories! : )

Katie Smith said...

this is such a beautiful post! well done! :)

Kodi said...

This post, SD. It's beyond beautiful. XO