I have been troubled recently by how busy I am. I am not proud of my busyness. I do not think I am running from anything; I am not trying to avoid anything. Yes, there is brokenness in me. I experience acute loneliness, but I do not run from it, or ignore it, or deny it. Not all of my relationships are what I would like them to be, nor are they all healthy, but I do not think I am running from them either. If I have had one realization over the last ten months (I’ve had many, but one of the most obvious ones), it is just how very important relationships (family, friends, romance) are, and how incredibly crucial it is for us to enter into them as fully, as brokenly, possible. We are to fight for them.
Not the point of today’s entry though, however.
My busyness bothers me. When I picture who I want to be, the woman I feel called to be, my fullest self, I envision a woman with enough time to be spontaneous. I don’t have that time, currently. I envision many other things for that version of me, but living a slower life is the one aspect most incongruent with the current version of me (well, the part which bothers me the most).
So this afternoon, I was given a gift of an inconspicuous realization. With an adorable, almost-two -year old princess on my lap, blowing bubbles and watching them float above the curves of purple bell flowers that I love so much, I realized sometimes a slower lifestyle is not so much in how busy we are, but in the willingness to slow down when the unplanned moment presents itself. Watching one large bubble in particular float extra gently, with more grace than you would expect for a mere sphere of soap, ascend above the tips of the twilight lavender fairy-skirt flowers, the iridescent magenta orb popped, and then ceased to exist, I realized that in that moment, I was given the gift of a reflecting a bit more of the woman God originally thought up when He thought of me. It was a beautiful moment of stillness, of buzzing bees, of feeling deeply, intimately loved.
I might not be able to leave my life of busyness right now. I deeply want too. But, until that time comes, I am going to start searching for more delicate bubble moments. Moments to witness the fleeting bubble lives. Moments to watch the pearl clouds sing the harmony of a luminescent full moon. Moments to watch the yellow butterfly flitter around, delighting in the freedom of wings after being mere mush, unable to even walk, let alone fly, not so long ago. Moments to wonder if that flying thing is a gigantic moth, or a bat with antennae. Moments to delight in the song of the hummingbird, or the enticing fragrance of pine in the early mountain air. These moments are more valuable than gold, or knowledge, or anything else physical that I might try to hoard. These moments whisper lyrics of the woman my heart strains for and is being, ever so slowly, whisperingly sung into being.
Be STILL, and KNOW that I am God…
Abide in ME….