A friend recently asked if my son needed clothes. What boy doesn’t need clothes? They wear them out because they play so hard. Hard play outside where knees are worn and pants are frayed.
Play that I grew up knowing. The long nights of football, hide-and-seek, and climbing trees with neighborhood friends with no care in the world. Streetlights warmed the street which signaled the end of play… for that day. Those are such fond memories I hold in my memory. Children being children.
That’s my desire for my three loves. To play outside with friends and just be kids. Fortunately, our neighborhood corner does not lack in the kid department and they are all about the same age. Now that the weather has cooled I enjoy watching them all play… riding bikes, throwing ball, jumping on trampolines, playing in the dirt. You know… the good stuff of childhood.
This doesn’t come without a price. Saying “no” to other activities and purposely planning time at home so this play can happen. Knowing my priorities helps with decisions even if I say “no” to good things. Things I know the kids will enjoy but also having the wisdom of having been there and knowing how important that play is in my kids’ lives.
Play that destroys clothes.
But then we are gifted with two bags of clothes that look like new. After digging in to see what was inside my son looks up with his two HUGE dimples shining back at me because he’s found that the clothes are just his “style”.
Before I know it, he’s changed into something new and is back outside to play and wear them out. It’s all part of his childhood story. A story that includes long nights and worn clothes.
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..
OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on:::
Just three weeks ago the drive to work gave me an opportunity to focus. To pray and allow God to focus my thoughts and my day. I sang with abandon. No one to hear but the one who created my voice. He loves my voice and I love that he loves it. Even when I’m not in tune or on beat or… ahem… sing the wrong words. Yep, I’m that singer. A choir director’s nightmare 😉
Then school began and apparently thousands of others all started new jobs on the same day.
Thirty-five minutes turned into ninety. Sigh. The mornings became frustrating as I thought of all the places I could drive to during that same amount of time. Or all the things on my “to do” list that I could have done. Day after day of arriving at work in a blur. Twice I remember pulling into the parking lot wondering how in the heck I got there. How could I drive for so long and not remember the journey? My mind was blur.
This morning as I made the trek to work I kept looking at all the cars in the “rich lane”. You know, the toll road. Being on the poor side you can sometimes get a little envious. OK, not a little but a lot. However, this morning I noticed that every car I saw in the rear view mirror looked blurred. Looking ahead everything looked clear. I kept blinking my eyes, thinking that quite possibly I needed to get my eyes checked. Strange.
Then it occurred to me that my life is like that. Looking back at all the “stuff” leaves me without focus and peace. It’s when I look ahead that I feel clear and focused.
Hmmm… only God can orchestrate a lesson like that… on a long drive to work. He also reminded me that the extra time gives me extra time to sing my heart out to him… because he loves my voice. And I love that he loves it.