I fought sleep all through the sermon yesterday from the center of the second row, right in front of the preacher (my husband). And right now I can't even remember what it was about, really, except to say that to love Him is to know Him. We were in 1 John, where all the red hearts and green circles dot my holy writ.
I was tired and tried not to sleep through it. I may or may not have succeeded.
A few moments prior, my son played his guitar from stage with a heart for God that's as bright as our stage lighting. He has one week left of 11th grade. I'm not sure when he reached 6'1".
The last time I considered this thought was a well visit at 24 months, when they showed a younger, skinnier me a grid with a soft, sweeping curve and said, "He'll be 6'2" as an adult." It was inconceivable when a toddler weighed down my arms.
Funny thing is, it still is.
Noelle was serving in the nursery she used to play in. Why does that seem like only a year or two ago?
Reagan sat with her cousin listening to the sermon, but I'm pretty sure she was thinking about the book in her hands. The cover was being caressed by her left hand. She's eager to read about guarding her purity and why dating may not aid her cause. You know. She's 13 going on 19.
That's why I haven't been around here so much lately.
I started blogging two years ago because life was speeding by so quickly. I wanted to slow it down, capture and hold it, if only a few glorious moments of it, so that in the end it wouldn't feel like it had all sipped by without being grasped and embraced wholly for all the bright life that it was, is.
So I tried to pin life to a page with words.
In the process I awakened my dreams, and it felt good and right to ... well, write.
Over time, blogging and the pursuit of writing had seeped into my whole life. My house became more unkempt, more groceries were left unbought and uncooked. My bible idled like a car at a red light revving its engine waiting to propel me spiritually forward. All the while my kids were growing, my waistline too, and I started missing the novels I used to enjoy reading. That is to say nothing of my deep bible study time that has dwindled to reading a devotional. I was busy being a writer.
And I just got so tired.
At some point I looked up from my laptop and realized I was now missing my life instead of living it more fully.
I had forgotten that I enjoyed being a mom, a homemaker, wife, disciple. My love of cooking, reading, and taking walks with Noelle and Boomer had all fallen asleep.
When you capture fireflies in a jar, they stop lighting up because they feel trapped. The best way to enjoy fireflies is to sit on the front steps and watch with a keen eye and delight in the fraction of a second when a bug lights the night.
Life's kind of like that, too, maybe even more so when it's fully involved with high school kids. It's a quick flick of light and then it's over. I don't want to miss the electrified moments.
I'll still write, just maybe not as often. That way I can also enjoy working out, a cleaner house, better planned meals around our table, my husband, my God, and not sleep through sermons or my kids' growing up.
All these things light up with God's love right before my sleepy eyes if I would watch. I managed to learn yesterday in my half-sleep only this: that to love them is to know them. Surely I can wake up and execute better balance in my life so I don't miss it when my kids light up the darkness with theirs.
You are our letter, written in our hearts, known and read by all men. ... For this reason I bow my knees ... that He would grant you ... to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, so that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to the fullness of God (2 Cor. 3:2 and Ephesians 3:14-19).
Sharing today with Michelle's Hear It On Sunday, Use It On Monday community.