Sunday, April 1, 2012


"I just want some slow quiet moments," I say, "where we can stop and think about where we are in life and enjoy it." I knock the hair clippers against my hand. A clump of hair dissolves into tiny pieces that litter down Craig's back.

"I don't even like moments like that," he says. I frown, buzz the clippers up the back of his head, mow down hair in long strips like grass. Tiny hairs fall everywhere. He brushes the overspray off his legs. "I just try to enjoy every moment as it happens." He slaps his legs.

I frown, sight, grab the scissors and comb. With short scoops and snips I even up the crown of his head. We let the words sit like prickly hairs piled on the kitchen floor. All the while I wonder if this is true, if I could just enjoy each moment as it comes.

I sweep the hair and vacuum the kitchen and for a moment feel like he's shown me another window in the house.

Photo courtesy of Urban Rose Photo.


2076. How Myra plays in the rain until she's drenched, then falls asleep on my lap.

2077. The kids with flashlights shined in the washer to watch the laundry suds up.

2078. How when I mention Great-Grampa, Lucy blurts, "He's so sweet."

2079. Jane's question, "Momma, why does Jesus tell us that when there are wars the end is near?" and the conversation that ensues.

2080. How she offers, "Want me to get you a highlighter? Then you can put it back in the drawer. If you can -- I mean you ARE pregnant."

2081. Two new scarves, spring green and summer red.

2082. How I hear the four children playing on the top bunk. "We're in the Battle of the Bulge, Jane," Jack shouts.

2083. How Great-Uncle Alan actually fought in that battle.

2084. A new haircut for me too! And how even a few inches trimmed off makes my head feel lighter, and all the hair just fall so much nicer.

2085. Praying for miracles in person and over e-mail, intercessory prayer for the people we love.

2086. Pizza pie and blackberry pie all in one meal and all the laughing that went with it.

2087. Jack's admiration, "Mom, you're HEAVY-WEVY, like one billion," and the happy blink of his eyes.

2088. Jane's evaluation, "Daddy could lift up this whole world and have it be so light."

2089. The last wrestling match of the season and how all the family gathers and cheers for Jack and the cousins.

2090. How it's a proving ground for strength under control and the sheer will to never give up.

2091. How the menfolk nod their heads and relive their own proving grounds.

2092. Sausage tomato bisque and artisan bread, three types of pie and maple bars for dessert. Family gathered for lunch.

2093. A new month and the exhilaration of being at the tip top of a roller coaster.

2094. Learning to enjoy every moment.

holy     experience


  1. Stopping by from A Holy Experience. You family is beautiful.

  2. this reminds me of a conversation andy and i have had many a time... *sigh* :)

  3. Wow. Just living through life and not stopping (stopping does actually take you out of that which you are trying to enjoy).

    I suppose that if you live with God by your side, there is no need for stopping. Every moment already counted. Every moment full of gratefulness. Intimate understanding between colleagues.

    On the other hand I am glad for coffee each week when we recount the goodness. Re-live the good and bad. We find answers woven deep into the plot. We LOVE a good story. We want to hear it again and again. Well, OK. Let's just stop a minute and be grateful for THAT.

  4. I love stopping too, Bethany. And like your husband, mine doesn't. He challenges me to keep embracing life when I'd like to shut down and check out. How good God is to give us just what we need in our spouses. Lovely post.

  5. my husband brings light to my life, too. we are so blessed, this way. and i suppose if you're savoring, and he's embracing, it's really all the same, no? so long as everyone's appreciating? happy easter friend.