What's a happy moment made of?
So a few weeks ago I had a happy moment. I was going to blog about it but you know, life got busy. Well, I have to tell you that I have had a few more moments in the meantime. They've really got me thinking... I think.
After a long day of chasing abusive Levi away from vulnerable Seth, I took Levi out shopping with me. It was a rainy night and we got the stuff we needed, split a package of Swedish Fish and walked around the non-enticing mall by our home. We were walking to the car, I was tired and ready to go home to relax when suddenly Levi stopped walking. In true toddler style he backed himself up to a little, low curb along the covered sidewalk by the parking lot. He easily squatted down to watch the rain and the passersby. Amused, I decided to join him and lowered myself almost to the ground to sit beside him. We sat there talking about the trucks and cars (talking means saying the words "truck" and "car" occasionally), watching rain and the other shoppers. Slowing to enjoy the experience together helped me to see the world through a toddler's eyes. After a few minutes, I asked if he was ready to go home to see Daddy. A strong side to side head movement indicated a definite NO. So I asked, "do you want to go home and see Seth?" Same head movement. So I made it more appealing, "Do you want to go home and go to bed?" Same head movement. No surprise there.
As I said I have had more of these happy moments. One was violating our Family Day to take a long Metro ride with a lady in our church whom I really don't know well and had always percieved as shy and quiet. We were riding to the hospital to visit another lady in our church who had surgery. I found my companion to be a wonderful conversationalist and I heard many good stories from her life. Not to mention the joy of visiting a dear friend to us both during her boring hospital stay.
Yesterday Mark, Levi, Seth, and I went on a hike. Seth's first hike. Afterwards we stopped at a nearby playground to let Levi run wild for a while. Sitting in the dirt, leaning against a tree I fed Seth and read my book. After a while Mark and Levi stopped playing and Mark laid down to rest on a picnic bench. Levi sat down next to Seth and I and gathered colorful leaves and acorns and jabbered about something in his baby talk. I was looking forward to getting some Christmas shopping done but stopping to hike and to play -- to discover our world -- brought a breath of life uncomparable to anything else.
Last week after dinner one night, Levi was playing loudly, Seth was crying and Mark was resting from not feeling well. Our house was crazy, as usual and the phone rang. The caller was an older lady in our church and she had a question. At several church meetings recently the discussion of how the church should minister and change in a Postmodern culture has come up. Her question was simple, "I don't understand what is meant by 'Postmodern' and how it should affect us?" Time to settle the children, and wake the husband quickly. This moment, this question, must be responded to. An important glimpse into the struggle that many in our church, and all churches, are facing. Some just aren't gutsy enough to really ask for understanding. I got to explain in general what a worldview is and how they shift historically and how organizations like the church struggle through. A light clicked on in the caller's understanding. A question asked and an opportunity taken.
Finally this morning on a Tuesday, the busiest day of my week, I had a list a page long for the week and not enough time to get it done. Again, the sun is shining warm, the air smells like autumn. Again, I am sitting under a tree, feeding Seth and this time watching Levi run through the pile of leaves in our backyard. I think to myself, "could life get any better?" There is, as with each of these moments, a truly happy peace inside. I think about these wonderful moments I've been given recently. Each one would not have existed if I were operating as I had planned -- I'd have scooped Levi off the curb and put him in the car, I'd have told my friend there is no way I'd go to the hospital on Family Day, I'd have been shopping instead of lazying at that playground, I'd have told the caller I'd call her back later. I'd have missed that happy, peaceful moment and never found it again. I am challenged by this happiness. Why did it come? I believe it came because I put myself and my own ambitions aside to see the world through a toddler's eyes, to visit with a quiet lady, to share difficult ideas and concepts with the elderly. Happiness comes when we put ourselves aside and be with one another.
I am challenged to offer myself and my time more often for others.
After a long day of chasing abusive Levi away from vulnerable Seth, I took Levi out shopping with me. It was a rainy night and we got the stuff we needed, split a package of Swedish Fish and walked around the non-enticing mall by our home. We were walking to the car, I was tired and ready to go home to relax when suddenly Levi stopped walking. In true toddler style he backed himself up to a little, low curb along the covered sidewalk by the parking lot. He easily squatted down to watch the rain and the passersby. Amused, I decided to join him and lowered myself almost to the ground to sit beside him. We sat there talking about the trucks and cars (talking means saying the words "truck" and "car" occasionally), watching rain and the other shoppers. Slowing to enjoy the experience together helped me to see the world through a toddler's eyes. After a few minutes, I asked if he was ready to go home to see Daddy. A strong side to side head movement indicated a definite NO. So I asked, "do you want to go home and see Seth?" Same head movement. So I made it more appealing, "Do you want to go home and go to bed?" Same head movement. No surprise there.
As I said I have had more of these happy moments. One was violating our Family Day to take a long Metro ride with a lady in our church whom I really don't know well and had always percieved as shy and quiet. We were riding to the hospital to visit another lady in our church who had surgery. I found my companion to be a wonderful conversationalist and I heard many good stories from her life. Not to mention the joy of visiting a dear friend to us both during her boring hospital stay.
Yesterday Mark, Levi, Seth, and I went on a hike. Seth's first hike. Afterwards we stopped at a nearby playground to let Levi run wild for a while. Sitting in the dirt, leaning against a tree I fed Seth and read my book. After a while Mark and Levi stopped playing and Mark laid down to rest on a picnic bench. Levi sat down next to Seth and I and gathered colorful leaves and acorns and jabbered about something in his baby talk. I was looking forward to getting some Christmas shopping done but stopping to hike and to play -- to discover our world -- brought a breath of life uncomparable to anything else.
Last week after dinner one night, Levi was playing loudly, Seth was crying and Mark was resting from not feeling well. Our house was crazy, as usual and the phone rang. The caller was an older lady in our church and she had a question. At several church meetings recently the discussion of how the church should minister and change in a Postmodern culture has come up. Her question was simple, "I don't understand what is meant by 'Postmodern' and how it should affect us?" Time to settle the children, and wake the husband quickly. This moment, this question, must be responded to. An important glimpse into the struggle that many in our church, and all churches, are facing. Some just aren't gutsy enough to really ask for understanding. I got to explain in general what a worldview is and how they shift historically and how organizations like the church struggle through. A light clicked on in the caller's understanding. A question asked and an opportunity taken.
Finally this morning on a Tuesday, the busiest day of my week, I had a list a page long for the week and not enough time to get it done. Again, the sun is shining warm, the air smells like autumn. Again, I am sitting under a tree, feeding Seth and this time watching Levi run through the pile of leaves in our backyard. I think to myself, "could life get any better?" There is, as with each of these moments, a truly happy peace inside. I think about these wonderful moments I've been given recently. Each one would not have existed if I were operating as I had planned -- I'd have scooped Levi off the curb and put him in the car, I'd have told my friend there is no way I'd go to the hospital on Family Day, I'd have been shopping instead of lazying at that playground, I'd have told the caller I'd call her back later. I'd have missed that happy, peaceful moment and never found it again. I am challenged by this happiness. Why did it come? I believe it came because I put myself and my own ambitions aside to see the world through a toddler's eyes, to visit with a quiet lady, to share difficult ideas and concepts with the elderly. Happiness comes when we put ourselves aside and be with one another.
I am challenged to offer myself and my time more often for others.
posted by Leah @ 3:10 PM
3 comments
