Skip to main content

Where Are You Going So Fast?? - Day 4

I rushed past a friend of mine and her son walking down the sidewalk.  I had Ginger by the hand, pulling.  We had just dropped her siblings off at school and were heading back to the car for the next thing. We hurried, but my friend and her son meandered.  Her son was showing her things he discovered along the way while she followed his lead and walked at his pace.

As we passed, us Moms exchanged pleasantries while in the background, my mind wondered how nice it must feel to have time to walk slowly with her son like she was.  We got to the car, I plopped Ginger in her car seat, buckled, ran around to my side, buckled, turned the car on....and met my friend's eyes in the distance again.  She waved while her son crouched on the sidewalk, looking at something. It started to dawn on me, the only deadline I had to meet was one of my own making. I was rushing just to catch myself, and rushing my sweet little girl along with me.

I walked through the rest of that day with new eyes thanks to my friend.  I felt the pull of my hand as I made Ginger's stride try to match my own.  I heard my voice repeating, "hurry up!" "let's go lightning speed!" "We've gotta go NOW!" and too many other exclamation points.  I realized how little I was actually looking at her instead of dragging her behind me while I collected check marks on my "to-do" list.  Watching my friend give up the few extra minutes it took to walk the sidewalk at her child's pace instead of hers and was profound. I was jealous of her heart's ability to let his pace rule her world.  I was jealous of the grace and peace and wonder that she seemed to have found on the sidewalk.

Slow down sweet Mommas.  You aren't supposed to be rushing through life with preschoolers.  Their short little legs are meant to be a clue to us that life needs to be lived slower with our young ones.  This lifestyle won't come naturally to most of us. It will need to be fought for and wrested from the clutches of a culture that wants you to do everything but experience nothing.  Follow my friend's follow your child's lead and slow the pace.  It will be magical for them and a balm for you.

When you follow your child's lead you'll actually be following the Good Shepherd's lead. This how he cares for you, my friends,

Isaiah 40:11
"....He will tend his flock like a shepherd;
He will gather the lambs in His arms;
He will carry them in His bosom,
and gently lead those that are with young."


  1. It sounds like a trite old lady expression....but as I'm sitting here next to my almost 20 year "baby" I can't resist telling you that It. Goes. So. FAST!!! Thanks so much for reading Jennifer!!

  2. Thank you! I needed this today. Love you, friend.

  3. Have you read Hands Free Mama? It rocked my face off and is in this same vein.

    1. I have not read it Holly....but it's on my reading list now! I love adding books to my list that come with a recommendation like that...."it rocked my face off!" AWESOME!!!

    2. You're quite welcome. She has a Facebook page and her nuggets are gold. The Holy Spirit pokes at my heart a lot through her words...


Post a Comment

I'd love to hear what you think!

Popular posts from this blog

What You Need, When You Need It - The Glorious Table

We ate steak at the fanciest place in town, me and my sister, our husbands, and our parents. Around the table, we joined Mom’s reminiscing. We retold our favorite stories of family vacations and holidays. We revealed some silly childhood secrets. And we listened to Mom’s stories from fifty years she and Dad spent together. One of our favorite stories is of the birthday Mom expected a diamond ring but went home from their swanky dinner with a shiny new set of hot rollers. Whenever Mom tells that story, instead of making fun of Dad for his slow-moving ways, she praises his serious, methodical decision making. She points to it as proof of his dependability. My mom told stories. I told stories. My sister told stories. Even our husbands had memories to share. We retold some of the stories Dad put on paper in his journal for us. The thing we missed most was Dad’s voice in the storytelling. Rather than telling the stories himself, he locked eyes on the teller and responded, “By golly, that ha

How to Be OK When You’re in a Funk - The Glorious Table

My favorite jeans are starting to cut into my waist in an uncomfortable way. The grocery order keeps getting delayed when we’re already out of milk. The dog has gotten into the trash again. My kids carry individual sadnesses I can’t fix for them. It’s rainy and cold. My hip aches at night sometimes. People I thought were dependable turn out not to be. I’ve turned out to be not as dependable as I thought I was. My dad is sick. I suddenly need reading glasses for the fine print. It’s impossible to predict which of these disappointments will have the power to push me into a full-on funk. I have days that feel so full of hope and possibility that I have the juice to face the big stuff with faith and trust. Other days start out already negative, so even good things feel bad. Funks and feelings don’t submit to the scientific method. They often multiply uncertainties and disappointments until the weight of dark clouds feels too heavy for my one set of shoulders to bear. I have a feeling that

Fear - You're Not the Boss of Me Anymore! - Part 1

I had a recurring nightmare as a child. It woke me in the middle of the night and kept me awake worrying about whether it would fill my mind as soon as I closed my eyes. I thought I would outgrow it. I hoped my adult brain would be able to see things my child’s brain couldn’t and I would be free. Instead, a panicky fear of my Dad dying followed me into marriage and parenting. I’m 49 years old and until recently, the nightmare still showed up in various forms. This year my beloved Daddy died. I watched him take his last breath in front of me and imagined him arriving with the next in heaven. My whole life I’ve been clenched up around the fear that watching him die might break something inside of me and I couldn’t survive.  It didn’t happen. I’m more okay than I ever thought possible. My dad isn’t living anymore, he’s not here on earth for me to talk to or touch and I’m sitting upright and in my right mind. Today I’m amazed at my okayness. Finally being free of this fear I’ve lived with