“Life is not an emergency. Life is a gift. A pail with a pinhole loses as much water as a pail pushed over. A whole life can be wasted in minutes wasted, small moments missed.” ~Ann Voskamp
I guess it’s this disease that’s causing my current sentimental state. The disease attacks my body at random which causes me to be bed ridden on some days and other days I have more energy and I do as much as I possibly can. I feel free – even it’s only for a few hours or an afternoon, I take what I can get and I run with it. Even if that means doing something a little “crazy” or different from the routine.
When was the last time you did something totally spontaneous? The last time you left your home to do something completely spur of the moment? Have you made any impromptu memories lately?
In those moments I feel the need to make up for the time that was lost. The countless hours that were spent sleeping, resting and taking pills. Time taken from me. So, lately I have made a lot of impromptu memories with my girls. I know part of it may be inspired by a guilty conscience – remembering often of the many things I have been forced to stop doing on the days and weeks where I am physically too weak to do the fun things that we used to do together daily. Life has changed quite a bit for them and I really don’t like that. Maybe I’m trying too hard to create the spontaneity but maybe that’s okay because they know that I just love to be with them whether that is enjoying God’s creation in our pajamas during a late night excursion in the country to moon watch…
Or squeezing in a girls only tea party before daddy gets home from work…
A couple of nights ago while eating dinner, I asked the girls their favorite part of the day. Big C chattered about lunch time with friends and somehow the subject changed fast, without a breath – as kids conversations tend to do. They started talking about heaven and everything they were looking forward to. The list was something like this: no bugs, no pain, no allergies, eating all the candy they wanted and not getting cavities and with a blink of their eyes they could change what they were wearing. (Only a girl could think of that!) But little C quickly said, “But I don’t like blinking. I miss too much when I blink. Maybe we won’t even have to blink in heaven so we won’t miss anything.” This was said complete with a wide-eyed look at the end to emphasize the “no blinking.”
After laughing quite a bit, I realized that so often I do not see life this way – as a beautiful picture that might disappear if I blink. I’m thankful for children who remind me of how important the little things are and who help me remember to always make room for the impromptu moments in life.
“I want to see beauty. In the ugly, in the sink, in the suffering, in the daily, in all the days before I die, the moments before I sleep.” ~Ann Voskamp