Tag Archives: rest

Life, unedited.

The clock ticks rudely and I never realized how loud the fridge really is.

Muffled laughter seeps in from the neighbors and I can hear a train several blocks away.

It’s noisy here in the quiet.

My house is a little messy, but it’s clean under those toys, thanks to Rose.

On the shelves sits a plant starting to droop, asking for a drink. I forgot again today. Even looking at it now, I think – she’ll be ok until tomorrow.

There’s a printed out calendar sheet on the fridge at waist level with big green numbers counting down the sleeps until we “take suitcase on pane to ‘merica”.

Several boxes of ziplock bags are stacked in the corner containing blades and gloves and soap and things that one might see as “stuff” and another might see as a chance at life.

A small pile of baby clothes outgrown, folded neatly on the chair. Ready to fly to an island to be traded for fish so they can clothe Jesus there.

My eyes blur, my jaws clenched (again), and my shoulders raised too close to my ears.

I think about the bathtub I hope to one day have.

Relax. Breathe. Sleep. Those things have been hard lately.

But there’s a strange sweetness in the struggle. Prayers in the form of one and two and three-word pleas.

He answers, you know.

I wait for it.

But sometimes the wait is hard.

And sometimes cookies really do make things better. (I never understood comfort food before. But now I want some cookies.)

He answers, you know.

 

STOP.

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five| Five minutes a day, unedited

 

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Enjoying the small things, wholeheartedly

It’s easy to take for granted, isn’t it? Especially the small things.

Like bathtubs and quiet hours and good books.

This morning the boys went out for a walk along the Strand while I stayed in our hotel room and drew a hot bath.

I can’t actually remember the last time I had a bath. We only have a shower stall at home, so when we came to the hotel with a clean, white bathtub I knew I needed to make sure to bury myself in it at some point.

After the boys left I filled the tub, boiled the kettle and made myself a cup of tea, put a small lamp in the bathroom so I wouldn’t need the bright overhead lights, and settled in with a book.

Music played on the ipad a few feet away until I realized, wait, I never get this – the sound of silence – and quickly turned it off.

I let my tired muscles soak and my weary soul drink of Ann’s rich words.

Today would be a day I would not take for granted. I would not let it slip by without making it matter.

Small things, normal things, beautiful things.

The boys returned, bounding in with squeals and mommmyyyyyyy! just as I finished drying off my pruned up skin.

I was ready to see them again, missing them.

Clean and grateful I pulled my robe around my middle and went out to embrace my little balls of endless energy.

Enjoying the small things, wholeheartedly.

STOP.

 

Q for you: When is the last time you really enjoyed the small things?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.


Searching for margin, longing for rest, needing connection.

Someone gave us money to “do something fun”.

Someone else gave us their apartment on the beach so that we could “get away and relax”.

Someone else gave us a day off after he asked my husband if he had dirt on his face when really it was just bags under his eyes.

So this weekend we’re having a quick getaway to a beach apartment that’s 10 minutes from our house.

Amazing how stressful it can be to prepare to relax. How’s that for irony?

The details are boring but today was a stream of plans-gone-wrong after plans-gone-wrong.

Lists are made but only half completed.

Kids are revved up on I-don’t-know-what’s-happening-but-it’s-different-therefore-exciting energy.

(In other words, tehy’re driving me crazy.)

And after a long day at work the family comes together and we decide it’s worth the stress and the busy and the crazy.

Because soon we’ll be 10 minutes away feeling as if we’re miles away.

We need each other. We need to connect. We need to collapse into baths (we don’t have one) and read books and listen to music and curl up in a great big bed, all piled on top of each other.

Rest is good. Margins are good.

We’re trying to find both.

Thank God there are a few people around us helping.

STOP.

 

Q for you: I think “margin” and “rest” are problems in our society today. Are you finding margins and rest in your life? How?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited


Good Friday, indeed (And why I didn’t rub dirt on my face and lament)

In Australia Good Friday is observed as a public holiday.

Now I could just have a hazy memory, but I don’t think Good Friday is included among our “holidays” in America. (If I’m wrong, please forgive me. It’s been 12 years.)

Ryan and I don’t have EAster Monday off  (some do, but not our workplace), but we do have Good Friday off along with the rest of Australia. So as the day approached I thought a lot about how we should spend our time.

Since we’ve been so crazy busy lately it was kind of a given that we needed some down tiem as a family. But we needed to do something “spiritual” too, right?

Maybe watch The Passion (after the kids are in bed)? or go to a church service? or–I don’t know–rub dirt on our faces and tear our clothes?

But instead we went to the beach.

We ate a picnic lunch.

We played in the water.

We lounged under palm trees.

We ate fudgesicles.

We loaded sandy little feet and wind blown hair and rosy-shouldered bodies into the car.

And as we were driving home from the beach I thought to myself, what a perfect GOod Friday.

I do’t want to mourn on Good Friday. I don’t want to lament.

Yes, there’s been pain. There’s been suffering. There’s been incredible injustice.

I understand all of that. (As much as my finite mind can at least.)

But I also understnad htat the reason for all of that is to give us a good day. A very good day.

A day so good that we can’t help but give thanks to the One who has sacrificed and poured out his everything so that we might have incredible, amazing, aweosme days like today.

You know, really, really spiritual days.

If it weren’t for his suffereing, there is no way I’d have ever met my husband or have the two gorgeous boys that I have now.

And so what better way to recall his suffering than to enjoy (part of) the very reason he paid the price?

Thank you Holy God, for a Good Friday, indeed.

STOP.

Q for you: Do you observe Good Friday? How?

Love,
A

p.s. I absolutely think there is a time and a space for meditating on the dark hour of the cross and all that it entails. If that’s how you choose to observe Good Friday, then I think that’s wonderful. Today just wasn’t that day for us. And that’s okay too.

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos


Quiet noise

It was 2:00 in the afternoon and the house was still. One baby slept in the room down the hall, another baby slept in the next room.

Outside there were a few muffled noises from traffic in the distance – not invasive, just the sort that provide a hum and a rhythm.

I’m no bird person, but I could distinctly hear at least four different kinds of birds chriping and singing outside. (Mmmm… one of my favorite things about living in the tropics.)

THe dishwasher swished from the freshly cleaned kitchen.

The dryer tossed and sent out occasional cracks of noise from a zipper clinking the metal.

All around was a glorious stillness and quiet in the gentle, loud din of life sounds.

Quiet noise. That’s all.

That beautiful space void of television or voices or crying… even music.

Just the sounds of house and home and the world spinning by outside.

Sun peeked through the window and a slight breeze shifted the curtains.

The to-do list lay face-down on the coffee table and hte computer screen remained shut.

I stretched out the entire length of hte couch to reflect and breathe and be, trying desperately to shut out the noise of my own mind…

And an hour later I woke up.

STOP.

 

Q for you: When’s the last time you enjoyed some quiet noise?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos