When I realized I hadn’t posted since the end of January my hubby suggested I write on the benefits of keeping your Christmas tree up year round. While I gave him the “aren’t you hilarious” ha-ha, his words have point. The Christmas tree is still up. Life has been full.
This past week Hannah’s teacher won the Sioux Falls Teacher of the Year award. As if the joy of nominating her wasn’t enough, being invited to attend the banquet with her and hear her name made my eyes glisten. This is an educator who never rests with what is, but is always asking what could make school better and finds way to make it possible. This is also a dear friend who put her hands in soapy water to clean dishes alongside me in silent support on a tough day and loved me in moments I didn’t particularly love myself.
I also spent time at hospice with one of my besties and her family. Yesterday she had to say a “goodbye” I know all too well. I wished I could take her pain from her, but I couldn’t. So, I did what we’ve always done for each other – show up. We ate, cried, hugged, felt the gamut of big feelings and threw in a little innate sarcasm with gentle awareness that even when it feels like the ground is falling out from underneath our people catch us and carry us through. Hard, holy, precious moments in heartbreak.
And, in between, of course, has been all of the normal. Work is crazy busy with huge events and summer prep yet God fuels me with a smile and affirmation that this is exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. Unique volunteer opportunities in my girls’ school keeps me present for landmark events in their elementary education. Dance and volleyball and helping the girls study fit in between family games of UNO and HORSE in the driveway and bike rides through the neighborhood.
The business of living, and how we do so, is a constant choice of priority.
I found myself telling somebody, “Just love ____ the best you know how right now. That might look different now than it does five hours from now but if you do this moment in the way that feels right you won’t have regret.”
I left chewing on my own words. I think I’ve, at times, struggled with what success looks like. I don’t think I’m alone, as I think most of us would desire the perfectly clean house, accomplished work in our home and/or the business world, time with the people we love, and some sort of defining greatness.
Doing all of that is pretty unrealistic.
But maybe greatness comes through a series of small moments.
If I’ve felt anything this week, it is what an honor it is to break from the routine to see an extraordinary friend’s “extra” acknowledged and wipe tears in shared brokenness. The gift of witnessing a parent steady their child’s hand to paint the outline of a cross, affirming my girl’s smarts in prepping for a Revolutionary War test, and laughing in the driveway at my man who insists on taking silly shots between the garbage cans in family basketball games like the child who never grew up.
God shows up in these moments.
So, if you come to my house, the Christmas tree will probably still be up. It’s already April, after all, and I like it out in November anyway. 😊 The benefit is I’ll be choosing my minutes well. And, on that note, I’m off to bump the ball with my girls.
Please know I haven’t forgotten you, I’ve just been busy making life rich with meaning.
I hope you’ll choose to do the same.
The day is full of potential.