And as we plan and prepare for this year's crops - the food that will feed our animals and provide our living - it seems overwhelming. So many factors are beyond the realm of our influence, and yet I check the weather forecast obsessively wondering how I should be spending my time. Trying to plan a week that is completely out of my control. I race through supper with the kids and out to the barn so I can help with chores so Dad and Uncle Garry can keep going in the fields. As I hurriedly cross the yard, running late because of a last minute diaper change for Katie, I feel the first drops splash my face. The rain falls softly, just enough to settle the dust and bring the guys in. A pocket of unexpected free time. Do I fold the loads of laundry that have been pulled of the line in haste and dumped in a pile on the kitchen table or tackle the layer of dirt, grass, straw and sand on the floor that has been growing despite my best efforts? Maybe I'll round up the kids and scrub off the layer of grime they've been accumulating as they've been busy re-discovering the sights, smells and feel of the world outside. Afters baths, I snuggle their freshly clean bodies, kissed by the sun with rosy cheeks and a sprinkling of freckles across noses, tight against me and soak up their sweetness. Tired after a hard day of play they lean into me and listen to their stories with heavy eyelids. Prayers, kisses, His blessing sung over them, I slip down the stairs to a quiet kitchen. Without words, counters of dirty dishes and small mounds of unfolded laundry call to me as I step across the sticky, dirty wood floor. At the end of the day I fall into bed completely exhausted. And, yet, I can't wait to do it again tomorrow. Because these days are filled with moments;
a handful of dandelions picked just for me;
a quick coffee out on the porch;
a stolen kiss in the parlor;
kids biking, climbing, running, bouncing, digging, playing, laughing all day long;
our littlest discovering all this for the first time.
These moments are more precious than anything I could ever want. And I know that these moments are like the dust that's swirling in the fields. The dust that permeates our lives right now. The dust that reminds me how fleeting this all is.
And that's why, even when I'm feeling overwhelmed, incapable of the tasks that lay before me and just plain-out tired, I will consider it joy. Because these days?
They are fleeting
and they are overflowing with gifts.
“Show me, Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting my life is. You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure. Surely everyone goes around like a mere phantom; in vain they rush about, heaping up wealth without knowing whose it will finally be.
But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you." - Psalm 39:4-7