As I sat and tried to pray in the confines of my closet, the guilt that rose inside of me for being away from my kids while they enjoyed Saturday morning cartoons was overwhelming. I generally wake up about an hour early each day to read the bible, to pray, to journal, to reflect and to write. The hour goes by quickly and sometimes, just as I am in the middle of a great epiphany, a child comes waltzing in to say something, to fight with their sibling or to just make a lot of noise. There goes the silence…
So as I sat and heard the background noise of the t.v., my son playing with his cars, wishing God would just give me some great and powerful thought, He told me he wasn’t there.
I’m in your typewriter.
I was a little perplexed. I thought I should be chasing silence like a precious gem and didn’t know why I was leaving my prayer time with Him. I sat down at my writing table as He made me list out the things that made me happy. That felt pretty good, but didn’t explain why I was doing it.
In and out of that, I was trying to get my children ready to go to the park, hoping that this would bring them some happiness, and glad that it would fit within our newly minted budget, as I embark on my worklessness (my word). So I sat in the idea of happiness and restlessness, my list, the farm animals, and why I just couldn’t seem to pray in my closet.
So I hopped in the shower and that’s where the silence came. I felt the rays of the morning sun shining through the window, the warm water that I was grateful for, and I felt myself in God’s version of silence for me. I have been tossing and turning in my mind over this idea of happiness and satisfaction, contentment, calling and where God wants us to be as His children. And then an odd thought struck me,
Be in the season, not in the moment.
Certainly, that was not from me. These simple thoughts are way too profound for me…
And I thought about that. How the world pressures us to “live in the moment” and stop time for “the moment” and then the lyrics of an Adele cover by Rosie Delmah that Jen Fulwiler played on her show starts running through my mind:
Let me photograph you in this light
In case it is the last time
That we might be exactly like we were
Before we realized
We were sad of getting old
It made us restless
I loved the song but hated the lyric. Ever been there? When a song romances you but has no real substance. And shockingly the lyrics of that stanza end like this:
It was just like a movie
It was just like a song
It just ends. Just like that. Because that’s what moments do.
I am sure we all have wonderful moments or even sad moments that we will remember or cherish forever. Like the birth of our children, a great award we got, or the passing of a loved one. We hold onto those moments, sometimes trying to emulate them, sometimes trying to forget. But they are fleeting, carved out for a specific place in time. They are tiny gems. But they are not life. They are not seasons.
So the thought came rushing back to me. And it occurred to me that moments are given to us by God. They are not something of our creation. They are wonders and treasures and “aha” epiphanies. They are grace upon grace and sometimes an unconquerable sadness. But seasons, seasons are long. Seasons are where we are.
If we don’t cooperate with God in that season, we will miss it. More importantly, we will miss the moments God has for us in that season. Like yesterday when I came home after spending a long day with my kids and I broke down crying on the couch. My thoughts were that I had failed God and the kids. I had yelled, was impatient had thought the day should have gone differently. And my son came over to me with a worried look across his face and a hand on my back and said this,
You are the best mom. I had the best day. How could you say that you failed! Mom I had the best day I have ever had in my whole life.
God gave me that moment, but it was a reminder to embrace the season that I was in. I was overwhelmed that my seven-year old said that he had the best day. I thought it was the worst. And then my husband reminded me of this:
You got them slurpees. You played balloon ping-pong, you went to the park, you read at the library. For them Melissa, this is the best day ever.
It was a wake up call for me. I didn’t have to create the moments, I just had to be in the season and accept where I was. Actually I had to embrace where I was. It won’t be perfect, but it is where God wants me to be.
Enjoy the music