The clouds were horses, kicking up their great feathery tails across the blue sky. I watched those skipping mares as I hung the laundry on the line. Change is coming, they seemed to say. Change is coming.
I felt it.
The sky was warm and comfortable like blue jeans, faded around the edges, and the grass stuck to my feet in little bits because the lawn mower had beaten me to the backyard. All around was the scent of the wash, fresh and clean, and the song of the robin in the trees.
It was hard to believe that tomorrow, it would rain. Tomorrow, things would change.
I looked out at the horizon and thought about all the things I needed to do before it rained. The laundry was only half done. The yard was full of rakes and shovels and the pile of mulch was not much smaller than when I started that day. There was trim to be painted and a shrub to be trimmed and…
…and suddenly, I was so caught up in the change to come that I was no longer here. I was out on the horizon, where the storm clouds mount and gather their arms. I was so far ahead, wrapped up in the change to come, that I could not appreciate the blessing and goodness of this.
This.
Here.
Now.
Change is coming, but it is not here yet. Here is where the blessing is that God has for this day. Here is where my home is, for a little while longer, and here is where my children sleep and my husband smiles and my neighbors call. Here is where God has put me.
Even though I know I am moving on, I am not there yet. I am here. But my temptation is to look so far ahead that I forget that my feet are not where my eyes are. I am not there yet.
I think to myself that this is why God leads me step by step. He knows that if He gave me a larger vision, I would look so far ahead, I would miss everything in between.
He wants me here.
So I dusted off the mixer that has been decluttered to some remote corner of my kitchen cupboards and made cookies when I should have been painting, and I called the kids around to have one when the chocolate chips were still gooey and warm.
“Mom made cookies?” They were incredulous, because Mom has been so far over there that she has completely forgotten about things like homemade cookies and afternoon tea.
Who has the time to make cookies when they’ve got a house to sell?
Not me. Not unless I remember that I’m still here, and sometimes, kids need a mom who makes cookies when she should be painting.
I found a bit of myself in that plate of cookies, and I reeled her back in. This is still where I belong, I thought to myself. Here.
Every few years from now until my husband retires from the chaplaincy, we will move. We will get orders for some new location and suddenly, our home will start to slip away to make way for a new one. The temptation for me will be to slip away with it, to close out chapters before they are complete simply because I know the title of the next one.
I should know better. The best parts of chapters often come at the end, and I don’t want to miss a word.
I don’t want to miss a cookie break with my kids, or a conversation with a dear friend on my faded green couch in the middle of a living room full of chaos. I don’t want to miss the lilacs that bloom in my front yard, or the opportunity to bring them in in great big bunches that fill up my home with spring. I don’t want to miss a quiet evening on the deck with my husband, when the sky becomes a canvas and the colors spill out over the water.
By evening, the laundry was in off the line and the clouds had covered up the sun. My tea flushed and steamed in the rush of cool air, and high in the evergreens, the robin sang his evening song to me.
Things are about to change, he said to me.
I knew it.
But for now, I am here.
I searched for this post because I remembered it from the first time I read it, when you posted it. Printing it out now, so I can hang it up, HERE.
I have to say I loved this post! I keep reminding myself of being here and now..
Thank you, Orinta.
Kristen,
If it’s any encouragement to you, our house sold because I had just baked chocolate chip cookies. Buyers love that smell!
P.S. Really enjoyed your “going to Disney” blog posts.
Ha! Whipping up cookies now. 🙂
This is a very timely post for me. Here is a text I sent to a friend last night…
“These years are the hardest. These are the years when they can’t do things for themselves. Very soon they will be doing everything for themselves, but today is not that day. Therefore, I will be thankful for the part my kids can do, and I will serve my Lord with gladness for this is the ministry He has called me to. I will be thankful my kids are alive and healthy. These are things that are not guaranteed. These are blessings not everyone is afforded.”
Kristen, been there, done that, but never could I have expressed it so eloquently and sweetly. With all the moves, I can honestly say I never was one to look back. Once we were in the “new” place, it was home. Period. However, the looking ahead was another story indeed.
I would try to remind myself to bloom where I was planted, that I had not yet been uprooted. Yet as soon as new orders came in, I was ready to go ahead and “check out” of the present. I wanted to say no to every request that came along, “Oh, I’m sorry. I wish I could help you, but we are moving soon.”
Once, when my kids were only six months and 4 1/2, we moved a couple of days after Christmas. I barely enjoyed their joy over Christmas for thinking about how much I needed the tree down, all the stuff packed away.
I did get better, and most of the time, I could still enjoy the “here.” But it was always a struggle. Now that we’ve been in one place for 21 years, that struggle is in the past. But still, I want to always remember “The best parts of chapters often come at the end, and I don’t want to miss a word.”
Thanks, as always, for sharing from your heart.
“I think to myself that this is why God leads me step by step. He knows that if He gave me a larger vision, I would look so far ahead, I would miss everything in between.”
That’s my favorite part of this post. Thanks for sharing your heart and taking the time to be with your kiddos and be a godly momma!!!
Thank you for still being HERE. Being the one so often left behind, the temptation I face is to shut down my heart and hide away as soon as I hear someone is moving on. I have been so tremendously blessed as God has dared me to stay close and keep my heart open to you, and I am trusting him for the courage to continue that in the days ahead and look forward to the treasured memories it will bring.
I have wanted to say this in response to other posts, too. I want to speak to your readers who only know you through your blog and say, THIS IS FOR REAL!!! So often I read blogs and wonder, is this just someone presenting who they wish they were. But I know you. I was there in your living room when you took the time to be HERE instead of in the next chapter of your life story. And you touched my life at a very deep level because of that. I want your readers to know how genuine you are and as one of your REAL LIFE FRIENDS, I’m pretty sure I can speak to that. 🙂
Thank you for this. We had our first baby 3 months ago and I’ve returned to teach for the last few weeks of school. We’re getting ready to put our house on the market and move from Texas to Ohio for a 2 year graduate program. My life feels very full right now. I appreciate the reminder to live the life that I have now. Each moment is precious and I will never get this time back with these sweet friends or my precious baby boy.
A very good reminder, indeed. Thank you.
This one is print worthy- for my “transition” file 🙂 thank you.
A very good reminder to cherish the moment!