If my kids could be “the park,” they would. Yesterday, we all needed some time in the good ol’ outdoors. With the kids’ extracurricular activities and having a pre-k kid and kindergartener, the weeks, without intentionality, can feel like they’re on autopilot. Sometimes, drifting through is what helps us connect between point A and B, but that’s not the way I want to live. I want to slow things down and indulge in the moments of now.
With the loss of life, you learn to value it more, and that’s what I’ve been trying to do. Yesterday was no different. The kids had been planning a sweet, sweet getaway all week. Each time we’d ride by one of their hangouts, they’d recall every memory in their little brains about what we’ve done at a place, how many times we’d visited, and how we needed to, in the moment, return. They hounded me on Friday evening! To my aid, the line at Chick-fil-a wrapped around the building, and it that, I found my escape. With a smirk across my face, managed to form these words, “Well guys, it’s getting late, and look at the line! What about we come back another time?”
After calming down from heartbreaking tears and loud wails, Grayson and Addison made my schedule for Saturday morning, “no worries, we can try again tomorrow.” I mean, instantaneously, the tears dried, and we were on our way to the next drive-thru. Returning “tomorrow” was not in the plans for me...
And to throw things in reverse, it’s been a while, but I know you haven’t forgotten the Saturday morning ritual of the African American household. Baby, you wake, gather thyself, blast old-school tunes, gather thy cleaning supplies and spin around the house as if you were the mop itself! So how, oh how could these little minions have plans that interfered with mine? In the moment, I sealed their request with a “yeah, sure” but I wasn’t sold on making it happen. Honestly, once Saturday morning presented, I wanted to hold all 4 post of my bed down and not move an inch.
To say that this week held its challenges high above the ground would be an understatement. And the press I normally had was there, but I’ve been more real with myself in the year of 36 than I’ve been in life. My little people were used on Saturday mornings to run piles of sorted clothes to their bedrooms to stow away. Were used to gather every Lego piece I’d stepped on and return them to their proper location. But this Saturday was different. The kids and I traded places, and they were telling me what they expected. I didn’t need Addi to pick up the beads that had fallen from braids throughout the week, nor was it important that book bags weren’t properly put away. What I needed was to grab a book and my journal. The kids needed their bikes/scooters, and we all needed to escape the routine.
What I needed was a break as not to break. I needed to hop back in the CFA line after a long shower, grab our lunch, and turn my attention to the park. So, that’s what we did. That’s what was hard-pressed upon my heart.
Once we made it outside, I could feel exactly why the kids wanna be "the park"… now, so did I! The sun rested on my face and felt heavenly. I was thankful for air that moved about rather than stiff air standing at the sun’s attention. The park was lively. Kids ran and giggled with their besties for the afternoon. And for me, I could hear every sound almost as if my ears had been fine-tuned. It wasn’t an overwhelming sound, but it was like heaven opened for me and I was recalibrating in the now. The park allowed God to remind me of the verse He’d given for the week, Psalms 138:8. He is a keeper of His promises,
and I wholeheartedly trust that He’s perfecting all things concerning me. He made time slow down as I parked at the park. Don’t miss it. In those hours, He was perfecting.
I was content.
I was free.
I was present.
I was refueled and refocused.
I was grounded.
I was.
I was.
At the park.
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