I cracked an egg and poured out the white, holding back the yoke with the other half of the shell. My daughter, Blossom, watched, eyes wide. “Can I try?”
“Sure,” she made a crack but couldn’t push through so she picked at the shell, bit by bit. Once a small space of membrane showed, she shoved her thumb through.
“Mom, it fell in.” The white, the yoke, and a chunk of shell had all fallen into the bowl.
“It’s okay.” I salvaged the yoke and she tried another. Brian walked in and, with a sense of accomplishment pulsing through her voice, she said, “Dad, I got the yellow part out of the egg. Mom showed me how.”
Joy filled me.
How did I let myself get so busy that I denied her, that I denied myself, the magic of time together, I wonder – but I know the answer. There were deadlines that had to be met.
I find, when I’m stretched beyond my abilities, it’s the life-giving activities, like cooking with my kids, that I drop. I feel joy seep away, not from me only, but also from my kids.
In the past when I got swept away by the undertow of life’s demands and saw my children suffer because I couldn’t keep my head above water, I beat myself up – I believed there was something wrong with me. But now I’m learning to accept that, like everyone else, at times I get overwhelmed. I make mistakes. I cause hurt. But wounds heal and love is stronger than pain.
I’m learning that I can swim my way back to the things, to the people, I value. They trump anything I can ever accomplish. So, after the overwhelming busyness of past months, I let my values be the needle on my compass and it pointed me here, to the kitchen, making pudding with my daughter.
I wish I could say that, as Blossom and I sat on the couch, finishing the movie we started the night before, we enjoyed our homemade chocolate pudding. Well, we did, until…
“Mom,” her voice sounded fragile, “I dropped my pudding and it landed on the pillow you made.” I looked over the side of the couch and saw the oversized floor pillow with upside-down cup on top. Pudding oozed out.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and I heard in her tone a cry for acceptance. I recognized that cry.
“It’s okay. Let’s clean it up.”
I wasn’t upset – I was thankful. She gave me an opportunity to pour out grace and I did, gladly.
I’m learning to do the same for myself.
Love it. Yes, grace needed – external and internal. Love the sketch you talented woman you.
Smile. Thanks Kathryn.
I couldn’t click on the “read more” link fast enough! (And when I REALLY should be getting ready for bed. That says something…) I just had to find out what happened. Charity, you are a poet. Your words and message here move me. This is one I’m going to have to reread. This whole paragraph, just completely, absolutely YES! “I’m learning that I can swim my way back to the things, to the people, I value. They trump anything I can ever accomplish. So, after the overwhelming busyness of past months, I let my values be the needle on my compass and it pointed me here, to the kitchen, making pudding with my daughter.” Keep writing sweet friend!
Thanks Pearl. I’m reading this as I anxiously head into a busy week, and your words are balm.
And the drawing holds emotion. Well done.
I love that line ……..opportunities to pour out grace. Our Father has loved us with that kind of love, it’s good when we can choose that route first. I get caught up in life , deadlines, and busyness too often. Thanks for sharing, love,
Sharon
Sharon, I love hearing from you. I can just imagine you saying this to me, and whenever I imagine you, you are smiling. It blesses my heart. Thanks for taking the time.
I’m so happy Melissa tweeted this since I didn’t get it in my inbox! 🙁
Just visiting your blog is a step into tranquility. I don’t know what it is…but I so appreciated your story. It spoke to me. You make me want to go cook with my girls too–so thanks from all of us! <3
Wow, Rebekah, that’s a huge compliment. I love finding places of peace and I’m so glad I could create a tranquil place for you. I hope you can carve out some time to cook with your girls.