Don’t miss it
My house is in total chaos these days. Just let the kids do ALL the things so you can get … anything done. Pouring that $6 box of grain free cereal on the floor? At least I get to answer an email! Belly flopping off of the couch? I’m glad I was actually able to schedule that doctors appointment! There are days it overwhelms me. Honestly, there are days I just want to be out of this season. Why do we wish our days away, friend?
I’ve learned that most of the seasons I’ve wished away, [whether it be a season of singleness, an un-ideal job, or yes, even challenging seasons with my kids] are the seasons that DO PASS and leave a small piece of me wishing I would have embraced that chapter more. A part of me that wishes I would have lived fully present instead of looking ahead to what could be next because there was growth [and FUN] to grasp in that place.
When my oldest was in her toddler years she brought me over a book to read. She did what ANY toddler would do and began viciously flipping through the pages and ripping away any opportunity for me to even read a word. I said, “Baby, you are missing some of mommy’s favorite parts! When you flip through the book that quickly, you can’t actually read the story!” You know those times when the Holy Spirit JUST. HITS. YOU. THIS was one of those times. He so sweetly impressed on my heart, “And how often do you do the same thing with me, Rachael?”
Friend, how often do we wish ourselves into a new season or do we truly believe that the grass is greener? How often do we curl up into our Abba Father’s lap and ask for him to flip the page for us too?“Lord, if you could just bring me a spouse.” “God, if I could JUST get that promotion.” “If I could only leave this place and move somewhere new.” I can just envision our Heavenly Father, with the deep desire to give His kids only THE BEST saying, “Oh I could do that… But, you’re going to miss out on some of my FAVORITE parts!”
I am challenged to remind myself of this truth in the days that are so easy to wish away. Amidst tantrum throwing toddlers, teens and their tyranny, or tiny humans screaming, “watch me” over and over and over again, I know that there WILL be a moment in time where I am longing for the story on this page. There will be a moment where my 2033 self really hoped that my 2023 self didn’t miss the magic of it all.
So, watch me embrace my house in disarray, the crayon covered walls, interrupted conversations with friends, and imperfect parenting moments. Because this right here, friend. This is one of The Author’s favorite parts.