I thought it was simply the warmth of this wood stove and the money it would save us on utilities that I would love so much. And I do. (It never moved in the storm...though all lay bare around it.)
But this warm little spot beckons us every morning. We come here first. We snuggle up on couches in fuzzy pj’s with tousled hair and morning breath, with coffee and the first sweet smiles of the morning (with an occasional grumpy one who isn’t smiling). With a Word….“Ascribe to the Lord, the glory due His name…”
Little girls chatter. About “when I grow up and get married and if I’m a mama…” and I listen and squeeze them. An 8 yr. old boy is more cuddly this hour, before he turns rugged and ready for outdoor adventures. My older ones and I connect and linger over the day’s plans.
It’s a simple thing. Sitting, listening, talking, touching, loving. But just as surely as a young, tender plant needs time and room to grow, so do they. Their cares are big, their dreams are real. Too often we forget to stop and let them grow.
And those seeds we plant, as our children feel the investment in their lives, how we whisper nap-time stories even though there’s a to-do list waiting, how we stop to just listen, speaking with our time how much they mean to us, that becomes part of them, a part that will transfer to the next generation. A seemingly small part with big implications.
Can we be the constant sunshine, the gentle rain, the warm soil–all the slow, steady elements for needed growth in these young lives in our care?
Busyness is an epidemic. Ironically, it seems the more technology we have, the more appliances and gadgets meant to make our lives easier and save us time, the more we are rushed, losing time, forgetting what’s growing in our midst.
Children take time…lots of it. Perhaps that’s why they’re so easy to push aside, to avoid altogether. We simply don’t have the time–don’t make the time.
But just like the garden that took too much time to plant and sow and tend, and is now empty and bare, with no harvest, no burgeoning rows of nourishment, no yielding, no giving back to us for our labors, so will we reap what we sow…or don’t.