How many times today have the bristles of my red broom scraped across these bare floors? Each forceful swipe compiling bits of childhood left behind here in just this one day.
They are bits dropped from the one who first tasted the sweet goodness of an Oreo dunked in a big, cold glass of milk. They are the frayed edges from projects created in tandem with those large fatherly hands in a garage that functions more as a workshop than a place for vehicles and such. I see a bright strand of yellow thread in the mix. It came from the little bit of stuff left under the sewing machine where a child learned a new skill.
Each little particle, a reminder of how quickly it all passes by. In moments, really, not even in days but moment by moment. A trace here and a trace there and childhood is shrugged off like a snake sheds its old, too tight, dry skin.
As tempting as it is to rush through it barely surviving it with a shred of sanity still left to show for my efforts, the Lord is instead asking me to lean into it. He asks for me to allow my hair to blow wildly in this crazy wind He is stirring without fear of the results. To just drink in the moments dusty and messy as they are.
He is asking me to let go so I can embrace all that is truly precious before it is whisked away before my very eyes.
I like that its letting go and not grasping. Proverbs 11:29 says He who troubles his own house will inherit the wind. How awful it would be to grasp for everything but the one thing ultimately missing the momentary beauty here.
It would mean missing the powdery scent of a baby freshly bathed. It would mean missing the sparkle of wonder reflected in my child’s eyes as we discover together this big beautiful masterpiece called nature. It would mean missing the moment to comfort a broken heart. It would mean missing the moment to mold a character which will far outshine my lifetime.
To grasp at all the busy things and the chore things and the sports things, the money things, and the me things while the one thing slips away bit by bit, lost memory by lost memory.
This undervaluing of our roles and our people is the very gateway to harm thrown upon our households. This grasping of the self-indulgent leaves all of our hearts impoverished. Our children’s hearts ache over being overlooked and our hearts will ache when we realize we’ve bankrupted our relationships.
Great legacies begin with one simple choice. For you, it might be something as small as powering off the electronics when your children and spouse need your attention. For me, it might be choosing to play a game or go outside for 15 minutes.
Little adjustments will steer our lives into the deeply satisfying places. Those places where the wind blows and freedom soars.