Just. slow.. down...

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I met a woman with a large family years ago. We were fast friends, bearing each other's burdens before they were voiced. In the course of our friendship she shared a precious piece of wisdom with me from her husband. Never hurry. That's when accidents happen. That's how details get missed. Nothing good comes from hurrying.

I hear her voice when I'm rushing the kids out the door to the car because I got up late. It's my fault, and I'm running them like cattle with a prod. šŸ‚šŸ‚šŸ‚šŸ‚šŸ‚šŸ‚šŸ‚šŸ‚šŸ‚

I'm hurrying. I hurry constantly. I'm never fully present because I'm completely scattered. I'm wishing for the next chapter before this one begins because it's hard. It's HARD! Like, crazy hard, to do all this. And I wasn't kidding about never sleeping again... Now that everyone is sleeping, I'm awake. Wide awake at 2:19AM. 

I read Laura Boggess and I cry. Every. Single. Time. "Slow down, Love..." I hear Him calling me. "Come to me. You'll find your rest here." I see His gentle eyes and quiet peace and yet I run, like that crazy rabbit in Alice In Wonderland. "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late..." 

And then I find myself here. Waiting for sleep. Waiting for morning. Waiting for some thought of grandeur to spark a flame and send me running again tomorrow, when really, He's here, even now, holding out a dreamy rest to me and still I fumble around on this phone, ideas clicking like a manic film strip from early high school days. 

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. 

Just. slow.. down...

Comments

  1. just meSeptember 17, 2015 at 9:26 PM

    I always feel bad for rushing the kids when we are pressed for time because I didn't get up when I needed to, or squandered my time. I hate it when I make them feel like it's their fault that we are running behind because I don't want them to realize how often it's mine. But I can only imagine how hard it is keep up with all you have going on. And always running on fumes. You are my hero in more ways than you know.

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