January 16, 2012

Thank God for grace,

because in spite of the Gentleness Challenge, this week had some moments that were anything but gentle.

Grandma got to witness a few of them and had a good laugh or two or twenty.

I lost count.

The good news?

I'm more aware of my tone, attitude, and demeanor more than ever.

The bad news?

I still lose it. Probably always will--maybe I will be just a little gentler about it. Let's pray so.

We took off for a much needed vacation away and we got to rest.

I mean, really rest.

Rest our minds.

Rest our bodies.

Rest life.

It is so much easier to breathe Him in when I'm not stuck in the middle of my to-do list:

the floors, homework, dinner, laundry, run, read, blog. . .

But when I'm away from it all, out there in the world that He created for me to appreciate and enjoy,

I can breathe him in and all the breath taking beauty that surrounds me.

It's so much easier to do when I'm sitting out there.

It's so much easier to play with no restraints,

 to try new things among new friends,

 to explore the unknown with walks along the beach community,

 to appreciate neighbors that you have never met before,

 to listen to gifted hands that strum tunes that remind you of people you love ,

(Dad, that's a reference to you)

 to rest in front of a fire and indulge in a treat reminiscent of childhood,

to remember what it felt like to ride a bike.

Notice the look of trepidation on my face.  

It had been about eight years, and my re-initiation to the riding world was to Balboa Island--hills, alleys, roads, ferries, and all. . .

I was scared--

riding a bike that was a little too big for me, in a group of about twenty people, unsure that I could handle it with my kids eager for me to join.

But I did it!

As we neared the top of what felt like the biggest hill ever to get to Pacific Coast Highway,

there was a splendid rainbow.

How I wished I had my camera to capture that moment...

but I know I don't need the photo--that baby is tucked right there in my heart along with the words of my six-year-old,

"Mom, that's like when Noah was in the flood and God sent the rainbow as His promise."

My heart burst with happiness.

He is listening!

The moment could have only been sweeter if the eight year old was there to add her two cents.
She was way ahead, fearless and free. . .

This weekend's camp trip felt a little like that for me too.

Fearless (okay, not so much) but free and full of rest.

Go on. Go to God. JF